She looked for love in the backseat of his car
She looked for it in dusty store rooms
In abandoned buildings, the rough palms of hands
She didn't find it in his whispered sweet nothings,
She didn't find it in his apartment building either

He looked for an easy conquer, a one night stand
He looked for an innocent smile, naive doe eyes
He looked for it in needy fingers, hitched breathes,
He found it in her hair balled up in his fist
He found it in her salty skin, her soft thighs

She was looking for love in all the wrong places

There was a picture in my phone of me sleeping ,
i live alone

if i could write anything beautiful
that didn't have a thing to do with you
     i'd have written my way to the moon and back
on a path built of college-ruled yellow lines

I could never pen a string of words
Sentences
Idioms and general verbosity
that will be capture your beauty like a photo

I could never capture an angle
Lighting
Aperture and timing
that will capture your vivaciousness like a video

I could never record a motion
Expression
Presence and fluidity
that will project your nature
like being by your side

I live in poetry
Even if I can't live off of it

SONNET 130

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her ******* are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
   And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
   As any she belied with false compare.