We have met once before.
You lined the sky.
Mostly with blue.
Sometimes with pastels.
You threw up clouds.  
Smiled translucent rays.
Exhale fresh of lavender fields.
Let me explore you.
Run through you like a field.
Embracing every grace me with your presence.
Soak into me with your intoxication.
Fill me up from every pour.
Step into this.
Get me lost.
Deep into your winding paths.
Pour out of me.
Spit love off my fingertips.
So I can touch things with true love.
Let me be something.
More than anything I want to be your something.
Filled up and dripping with acceptance.

Everyone loves the poems that hurt me the most. It's little wonder that the greatest writers, the ones whose works we lovingly praise, were merely lost, broken fools.

The trouble with Hello Poetry
Is that I fall in love daily
Held under so many captivating spells
moulded and crafted by all walks of life
I find myself longing for all of you
the broken, the fallen, the bruised
the saints, the sinners
the righteous, the dispossessed
the holy, the unholy
all meet here
to speak of life
as they feel it
as only we know it.
Onwards, upwards
Downward spirals
kindness, cruelty
crashing through boundaries
bounding across oceans
carried on wistful sighs and broken dreams
The trouble with Hello Poetry
Is that it breaks my heart
Then brings me back to love again
All within an hour.