To love you breathes an art.
Your body is the canvas my hands yearn to paint.
The sculpted shape of your form is something I’ve only known dreams of.
Kissing you is like my lips have met the stars.
Hearing you sigh sounds like the sand rejoicing for another wave.
Seeing you looks like the first flower bud in spring.
Embracing you is like the pleasure a horizon feels in receiving a sunset.
To love you breathes an art.

her words laid out before
me like a feast of the fanciful mind
and her inner demons like ravens of the soiled soul
hold themselves at the ready with wary eyes
her words spill in slow honey
smooth on the minds tongue
and leaves an aftertaste like mull wine
leaves one lightheaded and without inhibition
i become a drunkard of her thought
forever lounging near her lips in my mind
waiting for the intoxications to begin

my own words come like the unshaven behemoth
like the fair maidens foul brother
my conversation a meal with dance of the clumsy attempt
each step has a sticky note of scrawled apology attached
like new lovers trying too hard
being overly tender with eachothers words

her heart has spoken its mind
and she feels childish recanting its
written in stone meanings
so she follows
silently behind with her head hanging low
trying to be picture perfect
in the pliant girlfriend role

the inner demons like ravens of my own soiled soul
each moment spent like a misers coin
harpie fingers oiled grip
on the narrow metal
slipping ever so slowly past the eye
each day i sit here and watch as the sun settles
like dust onto the deadpan horizon
each day i pray fervently that i find
a better phrase than the one i live