I'm poring over your words...
Sophistication beyond compare
I can only savour in gulps
Such fantastic fare

•••••

Your stars are sculpted out of porcelain
Whilst mine, white washed vinyl
Your haloed moon, commands immediate attention
Mine only hovers...
As elliptical paint over stencil

Oceans of yours brim full
Catching the shards from the noon day sun
When mine suffer from receding tides
Turning into stagnant estuaries
where water hardly runs

Myriad views from snow swept mountains
You paint perfect with delicate pairings
Stuck with a view from a porthole
Sometimes all I see,
are the vast expanses of tumultuous endings

•••••

Still poring over all of your words
They all weigh much
but soar like feathers on birds
Artform fit for gods beyond compare
Drowning in the magic...
Of your incredible fare

Who else would listen,
But* you?

       You take every inch of self-blasphemy and agony I have to offer
           You hear every half muttered feeling
                        Every cut
I only used the blood to tell you what I thought

      Our love was one most often found and subsequently lost in childhood
    Before the sunset of adolescence brings dark into the world
      And in its depths
We realize how small we are
          How far we are from places that feel safe
                          Our love was a shield against that
    I could tell you my secrets and you'd shine brightly, make the world small again, if but for a while

         It was you I stayed up all night to talk to
             Underneath the covers with a flashlight and a pen and YOU.

   God, you.

          You listened to every insignificant detail of who I was and in your foggy dialect made me feel vindicated

          You've always been,
And as long as you have, I've loved you.
       Dear Poetry, my God, have I loved **You