Today I brought a card and a red satin ribbon.

Upon checkout I looked around in case I saw anything else that might

brighten your day.

I told myself that when I saw you.

That I would give you the card first.

And if that didn't work.

Then, and only then would I take the red ribbon, tie it around my head.

And do the first silly thing that comes to mind.

Just because

I love the way she calls.

She uses all the elements of the stars,

The universe itself.

Her voice floats, gently calming my nerves.

If I could be anywhere, I'd be anywhere by her side.

Where everything except her voice is silent.

She calls from beyond the reach of telephone lines and stringy wires.

If she were to ever whisper, I'd always hear her beckoned call.

Often times it feels that I am on angel wings.

Each time that she calls.

Walk with me, this long narrow road.
Let's explore every laugh, every smile this road has to offer.
All in the remarkable way the sun gleams off of your eyes.
Let's explore every twist and turn with slow pace.
Your hand twisted tight in mine.
Let's walk a bit further.
A brief glance made from my eyes to yours, All in glorious comfort.
To reveal the mystery of what truly lays ahead at the end of this bend.
The ease of stress in the deepest conversation.
Clouds revealing the sun with deep understanding.
Revealing everything of what's yet to happen.
When we make it to the end of this road.
I hope we come to know each other for what we truly are.
The love of each others lives

Have you ever been lost?
Lost to the point where you didn't know which way to look.
Which direction to point your feet? And every street looked the same?
Have you ever lost yourself  in a transcendental feeling where you felt that up was down,
And down was up?
A constant wonderment where you couldn't wait for the next moment to come?
A split second that turns into addiction- a moment that feels like your first kiss?
The moment your mouth waters almost out of control,
Wandering about in your garden of thoughts. Replanting every seed. Harvesting the fruit fresh grown by the sun.
Have you ever lost control of your breath?
Hyperventilating into a circumstance where time itself has gotten away
And you weren't at all bothered?
To relive all of the feelings that feel like only yesterday.
Mere seeds that are scattered into the very garden that has become root of where you truly felt your happiest.
A moment where you left your bookmark at home and revised a whole chapter of your favorite book with the biggest smile?
If at all you've ever been this lost, you deserve to be locked inside an insane asylum.
Because most people need a passport to visit the things that truly make them happy

The feel of brown skin swirled around the cup of hands.

With lips soft and full.
I too melt in a passionate place.
With taste of something warm and comforting.
It's hard to rearrange something as divine as touch.
The groove of lips stir such emotion in body and mind.
Setting it priority, forgetting to stand in a moment of euphoric proportion.
An eclipse follows in steady motion.
Without use of sugar or cream.
I stood in a flood of on going cries.
Stained by the rise of steam bold enough to claim where we've stood.
Stained in our essence, her essence.
The depth of her eyes.
A constant motion of sights sitting still.
It's unfortunate, the people whom stand in line.
Their misuse of foam cups, soy blend extracts.
Love shouldn't be diluted with sweetness readily made available.
But instead in consistency.

Rising like steam

If a turtle could.
He would walk faster- maybe.
Find some dynamite.

Cookie crisp sounds loud.
Covered in milk chocolate.
Wait until she smiles.

One in three women.
Have experienced violence.
The vase inside cracks.

In the waiting room
The broken clock sits

A distant voice calls.
Fragile and light it echoes.
Network service *****

I loved the smell of
Cookies, Valentine's day sale.
It's not February

So many details.
So little time, it's essence.
Winter comes to soon

Hallmark cards on a row
A multitude of emotion

Text message- barely lit fingers thought of you

Perpetual sound.
Foo Fighters, the best of you.
Earbuds in both ears

The only time I
feel remotely above average
Is when I am drunk

I watched Moana today.
I immediately laughed.
And sent you a text

A woman walked past
A heart beats within

And just like Summer.
Your love warm and hot- like steam.
Coffee best serves two

I bet you will smile.
after this next sentence, you'll see.
That this was about you

Today I saw you.
You drove past me medium speed.
My heart dragged along

And like some old building I,
came crumbling down.

 

I drowned in the rubble of dust and smoke.
I felt my lungs collapse. Gasping for breath.

 

I, felt brand new aches I couldn't imagine.
Looking down I fell to a slant.

 

This wasn't a cry for attention or a plea of desperation.
My knees folded past my stomach.


I coughed my lungs out in a puff of smoke.
My allergies reacted in a way that I've never seen before.

 

Like some old building I,
came crumbling down.

 

Without hope of resuscitation I collapsed.
A cloud of smoke funneling it's way down my throat.

 

A dry cough and a gag.

I ached in ultimate agony.

 

All in attempt to avoid falling on top the bakery beside me.

Her smile, her scent.
Stealing all of my breath

In the depth of her eye there is a city that begs to be explored.
A spark of curiosity hidden beneath the patter of millions of feet.

The journey of how one step, leads into a million thoughts.
Each person a developing personality all of her own.
Time has no meaning here.
There is no swiftness, no haste where anyone has a deadline to meet.
A specific place to be.

The pounding of feet hitting the pavement.

The sound of her heart.

With lips soft and gentle.

It goes unseen.

This city that hides in the spark of her eye.

This gleam of  light flickering in the skyline.

The view is just amazing.

There is never a wrong time to come out and enjoy the view.

The people here are amazing.

They always welcome me with a warm smile and a place to sit.

A metropolis full of fashion, living and breathing.

What I love most.

Is that I always feel like I am at home.

Whenever I stop by for a visit

She kissed with an intelligence that could enlighten the brightest of scholars.
The pages her tongue turns.
Her love came natural.
The woe's of being taught to fear.
She guarded her love with the careful fold indented on her cheek.
Her favorite author reveals that most pain happens where light cannot reach.
Instead she picks and chooses where to place her bookmark.
Forgetting to surrender the knowledge she bestows naturally.
Loving her is like taking a bite of an apple.
Not knowing which side to bite.
The circumstance of not wanting to spoil the best part.
The core of her smarts folded between the cover of lips.
The propaganda of where air becomes breath.
She kissed with braille skin and blind eyes.
Relying on instinct alone.
Her heart alone scribing the words of the next chapter she places her bookmark.

Kissing her was more than transcendent.
I came to the realization that this one moment was infinite.
Setting ourselves as a door.
Revolving the same emotion that otherwise would flee.
The exact teachings teachers and prophets set as the floor.
We elevated.
Our breath becoming the message stuffed in the folds of our mouths.
Licked and sealed.
We were but envelopes made of flesh.
Our ***** left open, receiving the best of our former selves.
We discussed the effects of paper once wet.
Neither of us cared.
Becoming one with another.
Our fears smeared across our face.
No longer a label our stamps fell off.
We categorized ourselves the sender of mail we often thought to send.
But as over thought occurs.
We become shuffled around. Lost in thought.
Until we mailed ourselves.
***** left open

I planned all night that when I saw you we would finally converse and that I would finally get to know you better.
Between all of the passing glances.
And not being able to catch up to you sooner.
Tomorrow would be the day I catch you when you're not busy and fill you in on what's been on my mind.
But of all the craziest things.
I forgot the words mid sentence.
My lips moved but nothing came out.
You stood in anticipation.
I stood anxiously waiting for some type of sound.
Constantly playing this moment in my head before actually getting to this moment.
I stammered over every word.
Stuttering over the simplest of words.
I barely managed to get my name out.
I held my hands out and paused.
Inviting my lips to let at least one word out so this situation wouldn't be completely awkward.
I continued to stand feeling beads of sweat begin to form against my forehead.
In a climate controlled room I felt like I stepped inside of my own personal hell.
The simplest of words were the devil.
At that moment embarrassment became my biggest sin.
I don't know if it was bitter sarcasm.
Or a good sense of humor.
But I did finally feel a bit of relief when you told me that you didn't speak good english either

My face lit up so bright when I saw my notifications.
I am not ashamed to admit how excited I was.
Definitely worth the wait.
The music chiming a song that reminds me of you.
That absolute feel good song you hope plays in anticipation.
The wait of reply.
Rewinding the moments back to when I first heard my notification go off again and again.
You really know how to reach into me and pull out the biggest kid.
Driving myself insane waiting on my phone to chime in.
No one else in my contact list has your ability.
No one else could have the ringtone I set just for you.
On the lowest setting of screen brightness, you fill my screen with all shades of hue.
Sometimes I think it's weird.
Hearing the highs and lows of your voice over text.
Our extreme use of emojis.
Searching for the comfort of each others voice when we can't fall asleep.
Although distance seperates.
I can safely say.
That you've truly made my phone a life line

Almost every day.
Hold your hand close to me.
Post me against the wall and stick pins on all four corners.
Explain whats happening in vivid emotion.
If I've ****** you off black out my eyes.
If you've stored me in your heart cover the space behind me blood red.
There is no need to question the value of if what you feel is real.
Slide my face across bright light in means to cover my face in fashion.
In a variety of back drops and shade.
Smear my face in distorted emotion.
A synthetic hue vibrant and wild.
Color my hair yellow then blue.
Do as you wish.
But by all means don't leave my picture the way it is

And it is this reason that I feel that I can never go home.
Because I know not where it exists.
Familiar faces that exist with a bit of a twist.
Those same smiles & well wishes are never what they seem.
If heaven lasts only for a second.
Be as it may, then ignorance is truly bliss.
For reason that needs no further explanation.
I've built this place in my mind that feels alot like home.
But misses the main components that make it home.
If heaven lasts but a second.
I'd rather not be forced to drink the bitter milk of it's truth.
There are many sides to a face at any given angle.
Which one is you, which is me.
In enough time things change.
In even more time, it gets hard to spot the subtle difference.
Was I ever there to begin

You remind me of the color pink.
This morning I saw you and ran away in thought.
I can't keep losing you.
I thought of putting you on my key chain.
Holding on to what's close.
I can't keep losing you.
I value your trust.
A piece of mind each time I look to the sky.
You disappear for hours, reappearing before you lay your head down to rest.
I indulge in thought.
Tucking you into a blanket of clouds.
You make your presence each time I see you.
The thought of putting you on my key chain becomes more enticing.
Just so I'll never lose you.
But God is fair.
Allowing me to see your face before you disappear once more.
You are love.
Painting the perfect picture before you lay your head down to sleep

At times it gets hard to talk.
Instead of rambling about anything.
Most times I sit without saying a word.
Just sitting in thought.
Most times different conclusions are drawn.
This at all doesn't mean that anything is wrong.
Sitting in silence.

Admiring the space around.
Different noises are heard.
Finding their way between the lines.
Indented in brief moments.

Spurts of randomness.

Wadded up thrown to the side to make room for the next moment.

Often left blank.

Without a single use of expression.

Without a trail of lead or ink.

Just empty lines stacked and spread across a thin layer of cardboard.

An bent aluminum spine.

All stacked up waiting for a love worthy of notation.

Signatures of fluttering pages.

Familiar names and phrases.

Blank pages filled up in a parade of paragraphs.

If you listen close you'll hear the band tuning up.

Marching down empty lanes marked just for the occasion.

Inside there are large bold words filled with tubas and small lines felt with the mark of snares.

The procession of pen to paper.

In proclamation to one of the greatest loves ever found.

Sold in two different packages.

All in perfect silence as they travel down the same lane

Through a window I was caught off guard.
I shuttered. Pulling the ***** of my collar against my neck.
I found myself standing still. Chill bumps forming against my skin.
The way she appeared dividing herself all around me.
Disappearing into the ***** of my collar searching the folds of my face.
She despised the way I smoked. Blowing my lighter out each chance she got.
She filled my hands, chasing away all of my bad habits.
Finding a better means to occupy my time.
The impact she left behind

And with one single flicker a warmth was felt.
As it lit and swayed around I swirled in thought.
How can something so small define in mirror image,
what I've tried to say so many times.
I becoming like the wick surrounded by depth.
Lost at sea without so much as a barge to rest my head against.
With you becoming my single barge of refuge.
All thoughts of despair and lack of faith disappeared when I bumped my head against your strength.
The fragrance of the way you soothed without so much as a word.
The city lights never shined as bright. Nor have I had reason to want to stay put until you showed me
how much strength I had in myself.
The barge of clear glass that surrounds us.
Stained by the scars of who we use to be, we constantly sink.
Discovering depth over by the far side of the fire that slowly descends. Devouring the wick.
If ever this fire should burn out shall we truly find out what it is to grieve

I couldn't keep enough love to save my life.
With all the thoughts that surround one person.
Every time I saw her I had this sensation to give as much as I could.
And when I felt this urge I'd give a piece of my heart.
And put it in a  place that I knew in my heart would be protected and reinvested each time I thought 
of her.
She didn't seem to mind the lint, checking my pockets at all costs.
Sealing my heart in an large envelope in deposit.
I gave, Until one day I was mugged.
I was taken for everything including my heart.
With just one piece, I exclaimed that you could have everything else.
Just not this, it's already promised.
It's the only thing of value.
I was robbed of everything.
When I made it to her house I told her everything that happened.
And with a look of concern she asked about the last piece of my heart.
I exclaimed yes sadly that too.
She just looked and held me close.
Giving me her heart

My ideal love is a love that catches me by surprise.
The realization of intelligent things and conversations that literally take us anywhere.
My ideal love is a love that expresses ideal.
The ramifications that influence us to be who we really are in front of who we are.
A love that doesn't mind bargin shopping and putting together hundred dollar outfits that really cost $10.
The reality that its the most simplest of things that are most significant.
A spontaneous love that doesn't mind the predictability of living today before exploring the mystery of tomorrow.
Here after the after thought that we exist in the past as well as the present simultaneously.
If ever in need I'll do my best to provide all that I can for an ideal love.
Through these actions I believe the true miracle is achieved.
An ideal love that is beyond ideal.
Who sets the where and how we meet, the institutions of bliss where the masses are limited to love and longing.
To find patience and compassion sitting on the front lawn on the same institution.
As long as she provides a kiss that can send me outside of my own thoughts, and pull me closer to hers.
My ideal love wouldn't be based on a B.E.T movie.
A single expression that summarizes a scorned woman letting go.
A cliff note of lust soon as the next sceen fades to black.
Her ******* pulled down not knowing the dude is secretly abusive.
140 minutes gone by to realize the last 5 mins were the ones that made her truly happy.
The woes of love.
My ideal love is a woman built with ambition but with a heart big enough to understand that without sacrifice nothing is truly accomplished.
A culture made in truth, ripped off by those who ignore that struggle is what makes us who we are.
The courage to walk out in front and be who we really are.
A real woman that doesn't mind lounging around the house that knows whom Budda and Huey Newton was.
This revolution of ideal starts the moment I realize that I never stood a chance.
The surprise of her lips against my cheek.
I drink from this remedy each time you open your lips.
So in silence I gasp.
As you caught me off guard,
My ideal love

I loved the way she looked at me.
Even if it was for a brief second, I would always stop what I was doing.
She had a knack for making me forget the simplest of things.
Often times making me stand outside of myself.


She looked at me.
And I was in a full length feature movie.
Surrounded by a bunch of characters before the plot shifts to us.
I'd watch as her pupils dilate.
The way her conversation changed from the way I heard her previously.
Before bumping into me.

 
She'd look at me but wouldn't  see me at all.
She'd see that I had a bit going for myself.
That I had a good head on my shoulders.
That nine times out of ten, I would stop if she seemed like she was in distress.
With so much going on it's hard to tell what's real from fake.

 
Frankly, I didn't mind it.
The way she looked at me.
It's been a while since I've seen myself in eyes that large.
It appeared that I was in a movie the way we met.
The way our conversation would last for hours.

 
Whenever she would speak it made it that much easier to forget that she didn't see me at all.
Honestly I haven't seen me in a long time.
The way that I use to be.

It's complicated
Pretty ugly jumbo shrimp
All hunched up like blah

Most of my adult life
I've found a lot of past times
Soon my phone will die

I found a new house
It has wooden floors throughout.
Still it's too empty

I am still waiting.
For something soulful yet real.
Kanye West inspires Kanye

She felt my thirst.
Grabbing my legs lifting me in the air.
I had no idea what was about to happen.
The plastic removed from my face, the breath of life.
I felt comfort in her hands.
The places that were cold were no longer.
I've never felt a warmth like the one she provided.
The softness of her hands.
The way I sunk into her eyes.
For the first time I felt special.
Like my voice could finally be heard.
My thirst forever quenched.
Head driven first into a glass of milk.
I drunk until my head swelled.
Her hand never leaving my side.
Although I drunk my body remained slim.
No matter how self conscious I felt she reassured she would always smile.
I swirled in emotion, an eternal need that would forever be purpose

Of all the simplest of things.
Sometimes love is a lot like socks.
Some are long, some are short.
Hell some even come up to the height of knees.
Some are bland. Some are colorful.
Baring the fruit of comforting something bare enough to be considered as precious.
These devilish things, socks.
Sometimes they create more problems than they are worth.
Coming apart at the seams,
Getting caught between your toes.
The hassle of constantly having to stop and readjust your shoe when no one is looking.
They come in all sorts of color and sizes, these crazy things called socks.

Sometimes that one size fits all is just a lie.
In time all things wear.
Just don't be foolish enough not to enjoy the comfort of the simplest of things.
This at all isn't important during the height of the day.

But the thought is necessary as it conveys comfort.

A necessity that goes unnoticed unless you've had any of these problems.

Belts on the other hand can be a different hassle. Not fitting tight enough.

The leather hole wearing thin often tearing.

Sometimes these dang things prove more trouble than they are worth. Stupid things.

But out of everything that I've said one thing couldn't be truer.
If ever I was to become overweight.
You'd be the pair of suspenders that hold my pants up when my belt can't fit anymore

The universe spins
Eyes swirl around a cup of tea
The spoon is patient

Bottled sounds seep; escape.
Our noise mimics semi trucks.
All in fluid motion

Suddenly it does.

This rapid thing that ticks and tocks.

Look up and it's gone

In all honesty.
I think what I truly desired was to be put on a plate.
And be devoured piece by piece.
My attention, all my free time.
Everything that no one else could see.
With knife and fork.
T be taken apart and devoured tastefully.
With nothing left except the juice of where I laid.
The tough parts that take time to cut,
Revealed in an instant.
To be desired in mutual attraction, a certain craving.
Covered in salt, pepper, a slice of butter.
All of my interests, my habits.
The anticipation of being sizzled and flipped on a cast iron skillet.
Served fresh on a plate.
A baked potato on the side to bring out the taste.
In all honesty.
I think I'll have a steak

I kissed the pillows of her cheeks.
Covering myself in the blanket of her caress.
While here nothing is heavy.
Maintaining the balance of smiles in the bed of her arms
She doesn't mind my snore, relaxed in complete comfort.
Without a single toss or turn.
The shape of her contoured to the shape of me.
For hours I'd lay here and day dream.
Listening to the sound of the washer hum in the next room.
I've always debated on falling asleep.
Never to wake.
To live the rest of my life as a dream.

The next time we meet.
I plan to meet you in unnoticed fashion.
To come face to face even if you laugh or chase to how far your mind wanders.
I plan to meet you today and the day after.
Coming face to face with unconscious desire.
Had I do anything else I am sure you'd notice.
Finding myself in finding you.
Extending to a desire to meet you in infinite space.
Accompanying you in certain philosophy.
To fill your lungs with the utmost of need.
The only interruption being,
That you'll never know how much I'll appreciate this one moment.
And how you'll never know,
That this will be all I'll ever know.

This morning I caught the blues.
I stood on the edge of the spoon with nowhere to go.
I tied my shoes and searched for my muse.
There she sat, distance postponing an ooze of stew.
With the end of the ladle short.
The end of the table so far. I sat.
I felt like a schmuck,
sitting on the edge of the spoon.
This hunger pang unfair.
Following me ladle to the tip.
A table clothed in decoration.
I envied the way it loathed.
Laying flat with no idea of what was going on.
It would never know the hunger that ached mid-spoon.
The ingredients that drove this passion.
The smell, the feel of steam that rose from the middle of the bowl.
The meat, the vegetables.
The brew of broth I longed to taste.
This space mid-spoon.
My heart raced in mourning
Standing on the edge of the spoon

Middle of Winter,
A flower sings the blues.
Painted red then brown.