Greenery, O you beautiful thing, barely visible in the wake of early dawn.
Amidst the darkness,dew drops form across your petals.
Sometimes visible like crystals at my lawn.
I look through you, the ray has hit your window,
As I try to grasp the details you reflect like a mirror,
You perish upon my gentle touch,
And here I thought you would turn into gold.
Oh my, I sure am getting old.
Searching for answers within the dew drops of the early dawn,
Knowing everyone just started to yawn,
And lift their sleepy heads,
Here I am standing,wondering where do these dew drops lead to.
Dew drops,you are like ripples of tiny bubbles,
But sometimes,I feel you are the tear drops that fall from the eyes of my own.
And sometimes,I think you are the drops of love from the vast ocean,
Endless,with no edges or corners,
Perfect in your own solitude.

Swimming in swirls.
Dancing with smoke trails.
Hung up on these girls
with their golden locks and pigtails.

Curl me around your finger.
Strung out on different pills.
Let's leave this place together
and fulfill those greater thrills.

Hear the music echo
in those ears that still ring.
Move your body to the rhythm.
I want to hear you sing.

Sweet melody.
Released free and clear.
Tonight we are in harmony,
but tomorrow I'm not here.

beware when you fall in love
with an artist
be it a painter, a singer, or poet

for the artist will
paint you
with strokes and hues
in shapes of every kind

sing about you
with heartbreak lyrics
and feelings which rhyme

write about you
with the simplest words
and a secret message she wants to say

beware of the artist,
and her love
one wrong move
and you're an artwork in her display

i. You sat down next to me and asked me what I was reading. When I looked up, you became just another encounter in my life—a face that I’ll remember as the person who approached me that day. When you left, I didn’t think of you again.

ii. I saw you again and you were reading that book. Your face lit up when I approached you this time and you began to excitedly tell me the things I already knew about the characters; love lines were just being introduced and you couldn’t wait to see where they would end up. I already knew the ending, but I couldn’t wait either.

iii. Our unplanned encounters began to be planned. We spent hours at the café down the street, talking about music and books and philosophers and life. Cup after cup, we abused the all you can drink coffee option until we were taking turns using the restroom. I never wanted to leave.

iv. We moved from the café back to my apartment. You didn’t mind the mess; I didn’t mind showing it to you. Our discussion of the novel you finished turned into a silent discussion of our bodies that traveled on deep into the night. When I woke up the next morning, you were gone.

v. I didn’t see you after that night, even when I inconspicuously walked by the bookstore and the café. There were a few times when I walked in and sat down at the table where you had told me that your biggest fear was losing the necklace your deceased mother had left behind. I drank a cup of coffee and couldn’t tell if I had lost you or if you had left me behind.

vi. We met again and you didn’t remember me.