In the sole purpose of love.
I confused a strawberry for that of a heart.
I didn't at all feel ashamed. Sharing a divine pleasure.
I allowed myself to confess everything my heart felt with this strawberry.
A fruit practical. Knowing all of life's mystery.
Plump in the way it stared.
An everyday conversation turned into something precious.
My hand becoming like a stem.
The strawberry now confusing me for one of it's own.
Sharing the same subtle silence.
Relaxed in the freedom that mistakes can and will occur but something
extraordinary can happen.
Introducing ourselves to a different us.
More tolerable.
Enjoying the gift of each others company.
Sincere in a moment of sensitivity.
Both of our cheeks blushed in red.
Sharing a deep thought that traveled it's way into purpose.
A seed ripe in the way it gushed into deep infatuation.
A mouth in need, the will to quench arising urge.
Communication in purest form.
The vine that ensues nourishment from soil colored hands.
Cleansed in warmth, devoured whole

My heart was like a mail box.
Waiting for one piece of mail in particular.
A special letter hand delivered.
The promise of sealed flap, carefully stamped addressed perfectly.
Scented in heavy anticipation.
There I stood in different variation of weather.
Going from hot to cold, the thought alone keeping me warm, closed in.
Suppressing everything that I held in.
The flutter of ads, bills, and different envelopes addressed to other P.O boxes helped build this anticipation.
Waiting for the moment I could open my mouth and accept you for everything you are.
Pouring your heart out in full stationary fashion.
Without hands to satisfy such anticipation.
To open such a flap and grant myself the gift of you kind of puts us in awkward disposition.
But the urgency of it all is as clear as day

And when it comes to her.
She leaves little to no room for any moment to be occupied by something else.
Even with that being said. It still feels like there isn't enough time in the day.
No matter what happens.
I'll always remember how it feels.
The stroke of her cheek against mine.
Trapped together in a cardboard box.
Frame by each corner.
A genuine box. Wrapped tightly in the gentle caress of arms.
It seemed like a good idea. Provoking each other's silliness.
Considering how attached we were, it really seemed like a good idea.
No special paper, no gift wrap.
Just scrunched up faces in a small space. Trying to figure out how to tape ourselves in.
Postage stamps sealed to the side.
In deep thought wondering where we'd end up next.
If only we could keep one flap closed while one of us taped us in.
I suppose it would be easier if we brought tickets and boarded a plane.
But wheres the fun in that.
Mailing ourselves away for a day or two
Realizing that the best things in life are free

Only in my mind does she meet me as the sun kisses the sky.
In reality I'm just the guy she passes by. Her head lost in the clouds.
Paper separated from pen, public school education.
Only in my mind do we attend each others graduation,
Maintain the steady marriage of attendance. The time taken to grade each other's paper.
Study sessions that involve single spaced outlines. Algebraic equations.
An organic remedy that highlights not just inspiration but more sessions soon to follow.
In reality the classroom is actually empty and I am somewhere daydreaming.
Head lost in the clouds

Each morning she fills a bowl with love.
And my hands become like a spoon.
Nourishing my soul with such a precious gift.
A memory my mouth will soon never forget.
The taste of love

In the midst of talking to my friend girl.
She mentioned that she's been waking up in the middle of the night.
Cold, unable to go back to sleep.
We talked for a while longer, being our normal silly selves.
Then she asked a not so unusual question but unusual question.
She asked if she could borrow my heart, that she sought somewhere warm, comfortable.
That here lately she hasn't been able to find such a place.
Without hesitation I gave it to her. The blurred line of going through such lengths expecting the same sincerity to be returned.
Ensuring that she would at least get a good night's sleep if nothing else hoping to put her mind at ease.
We went for days, months even without so much as a single word being said.
Given the things she'd normally go through it was quite understandable.
What ever was mine I would have given until I found myself waking up later and later night after night.
My dreams no longer existent. Without realizing I found myself in the same predicament.
In search of a peace of mind.
It wasn't until she appeared out of the blue.
It put my mind at ease to see her happy, fruitful.
We talked for a while.
Laughing about everything that went on while separated from each other.
But when the topic of sleep came up I asked about my heart.
I noticed a brief hesitation.
Choosing to confess without saying too much, she gave my heart back.
Worn. No longer able to fit where it once came.
When asked what happened she turned her attention to someone else.
Seeking the same affection

Watching a drop of rain.
I thought I'd drown in a lifetime of eternal bliss.
Falling fast. I caught the drop unexpectedly on my face.
Feeling instant relief from the thoughts that pursued everlasting bliss.
A gratification that transcends the smallest of pleasure.
Standing about,
Tasting a single drop that splashed against my face.
I felt a slight relief, satisfied with a small ounce of silence.
Not a puddle, not an ocean.
But a drop of rain soon scattered into a million more.
Knowing only one direction. It fell.
I watched an overcast drag across the sky with dire urge to be felt.
Caught in need I stood waiting, sharing eternal agony.
A mere drop to cleanse what I felt in anticipation to fill the gap of patience.
Still I stand. Without need to go anywhere else.
Waiting for the precipitation of love
To fall hard and fast in one single drop that feels like a million more

I boarded a flight without intention on leaving.
Awaiting to see the sights I only dreamt about with someone I truly cared about.
I didn't care about the condition of the plane.
The tape stretched across the seat.
That odd rattling sound each time the wind picked up.
The experience of going somewhere new was all I cared about.
Taking the time to plan a voyage across the sea.
Maybe I should have taken more precaution.
Proofreading the Manual once more before taking flight.
Just once more to make sure I knew what each control did under any circumstance.
Boarding the plane.
Caught in deep thought.
Smiling behind the captains seat.
Just before taking off good
All my hopes, all my dreams came crashing down.
Being caught in a swirling gust of wind.
The lights across the dashboard lighting up.
I fought every instinct.
Ignoring that feeling in my gut that kept telling me to turn back.
Still.
I boarded the plane thinking that the only reason I feared not wanting to leave was for that of another.
Constantly grounded most of my life.
It came natural. A sudden fear arousing the very same gut feeling.
Lost in complete panic.
My world now spinning fast.
Tumbling down to the ground

There is a bird inside of my chest along with a violet.
I don't know how it got there but for some reason it won't leave.
I am constantly woke up by singing and random pecks.
At first it was nerve wrecking.
The flutter of tiny wings scrapping the inside of my heart.
I opened my heart by some chance wondering if it would fly away.
It look at the door and pulled the door back shut with it's beak.
Nestling itself back inside the violet.
I would go to the doctor but the first thing they would ask is if I've been drinking.
By some natural instinct it would a yes that comes out of my mouth.
A bird of a different color I suppose.
Memorizing her song in my heart.
I tried to peek inside and see exactly what she was doing.
But she just filled the cracks up with feathers.
I've tried not to grow too attached as the moment I do that is the exact moment that she would leave.
In doing so, I've grown very attached.
The violet now in full bloom.
To my surprise she hasn't left.
I wouldn't have it any other way

With the millions and trillions of sparks that light the night sky.
I sat and wished upon the brightest one I saw.
Not once did I think that it would stop in mid flight.
Not once did I think anything planetary would listen to something so small.
A prayer sincere in meaning.
Two physical beings connecting on a spiritual plane.
The manifestation of deep longing burning bright in the night sky.
The law of attraction causing mass commotion against the other stars.
A nervous jitter becoming a representative of deep stares, the connection of eyes.
Watching you hover close to me. Revealing how big you truly are.
The one spark that refused the rest of the match stick, burning for all eternity.
A curious question, would you accept me as I am.
The slightest touch of hearts orbiting a single thought that leads to many.
A rendezvous of hearts missing something unforgettable.
The compilation of stars appearing smaller the close you get.
Arms stretching wider welcoming your embrace.
A huge space rock chipped off along the edges.
In comparison I would be a pebble filling the crater that needed it most.
A fragile thing. Giving ones self to something in belief of fulfillment.
The height of tides now risen to the soles of my shoes. Inching closer to my knees.
In all honesty,
I'll drown in you forever if it means I'll never get this close to you again.

She was like a movie.
The way I imagined her.
She incited an emotion I haven't quite felt before.
Going from silly and quirky to a full blown romantic.
She was a character. A bottle full of fireflies each given a crayon.
Tracing the sky with different colors. Small jet streams coloring her lashes.
All with their tiny voices take the lid off.
Something this beautiful couldn't being to be bottled.
Imagining that I could take them with me everywhere I went.
An extension of her everywhere I went. The fireflies replacing butterflies.
Staring at her behind the lens of my glasses.
Easily one of my favorite movies.
A rebel that went without cause. Fighting for what she believed.
I fell in love with her the moment she appeared on screen.
Her constant questioning of why, looking to improve my affection.
Watching my favorite movie in mind.
When she'd accidentally look at the camera I felt her glare into my soul almost as if she could feel me watching.
Anticipating that I'd not once take my eyes from the screen.
Watching my favorite actress bare her soul in the vibrant hues her eyes splashed across the screen.
Throughout the history of my life you couldn't have told me that heaven would appear as close as it did then.
Picturing the term me turn to the epic and complete phrase "We"
A compilation of picturing her do different things, a quick sketch artist falling in love
with flash photography.
Tracing her face in different colors.
The tip of my finger following the outline of her jaw.
A Representative of Hallmark helping me choose the prefect greeting, not knowing that all along she would be the recipient.
My belief in movies

One of my favorite things about you Is the fact that I still get butterflies whenever you are near.
Don't mistake my silence as a means to push you away or the fact that
I don't have anything to say.
It's just that I am still in complete awe.
That fluid motion that doesn't complicate anything.
That selfishness that has lost track of exactly where our kisses have landed.
But still craves to have more to compensate where the others have went.
That somewhat nervous jitter that occurs with the slightest touch.
Your mouth crashing against mine.
Lost in a tidal wave of tongues.
Cheeks relaxed in steady current.
There is nothing gentle about how well we conduct ourselves, except in the calm before the storm.
A floodgate of teeth raising in euphoria.
Releasing the echo of emotion felt from one body to the next.
A complete unison of waves lost in gentle current.
Our eyes closed in search of the light seen across the wave of tongues.
Watching it fade to black, soon to reappear.
The light that flashes behind our eyes.
An eclipse of heads following each others motion.
Our ears like seashells, resting along the coast of us.
Hearing the sounds, cleansed in the current of waves.
This wave that longs to be near you.
The complete awe of becoming apart of something more than what's presented.
Although expressed physically.
This depth of emotion swims in schools of love.

There she sat.
Leaned forward in my arms.
It felt like she belonged there.
My arms.
Her head nestled in the center of my chest.
My arms stretched around her shoulders.
Wrapping tight around her.
Honestly between us both I don't know who felt more comfortable.
Me or her.
The urgency of need. Warmth.
Her arms un-tucked from the center of her chest.
Wrapping underneath my arms. Squeezing the small of my back.
I love the way she hugged me.
I felt a sense of security. Holding her as close as I could.
I watched as she turned her head and made herself more comfortable.
This was who we were.
Explaining everything that needed to be said.
Reciting everything within arms reach

I allowed myself to be loved by you.
Moving from across the street to a building that I always wondered what was inside.
I am not at all innocent.
Allowing myself to become busy.
Never really having the time to indulge in something I always wanted to do.
A new building in a familar place.
So welcoming.
Freeing myself of everything around.
The clock loosely ticking away.
The world no longer the same.
The steps taken from across the street becoming my favorite.
Remembering the first time I looked at you.
The term busy no longer existed.
Allowing myself to come at ease.
Opening the door.
Crazy how everything just happened.
Doing something unexpected, forgetting that I had something to do.
I allowed myself to be unexpectedly loved by you.
Completely forgetting where the door was.
Losing track of time

In contemporary belief.
A archer went to a shaman for relief.
A answer to ease fear of thoughts.
Finding his way home, the trail of war became too much.
He struggled with the regret of building a life away from what he knew.
When he came to the shaman.
The shaman hung his head low.
Smelling the stinch of blood.
Still he could not turn his back to the archer.
When posed with the young archers question.
He sat puzzled. Summering the long winded statement to "a great change must be made. Else all will fade."
Knowing of the young archers longing for a maiden.
The archer looked puzzled.
Yet the shaman spoke nothing else.

The young archer was called upon.
A war broke on the opposing side.
They needed his skill in fear that survival was utmost.
Without time to think the archer grabbed his bow. His arrows and darted quickly in the direction the war has taken place.
He quickly coiled arrow to bow. In repeated motion until none were left.
A field of arrows covered the small space.
War does something to a man.
A brief clarity after the slaughter of contemplation.
The shamans words dawned upon him like a snake.
He darted to the shamans place in great discoverly.
Finding that the shaman as well as his possessions were completely gone without trace.
He darted back to the field.
Searching through a forrest of arrow.
A heart wrenching feeling stuck on his face.
Guiding his way through the arrows he found a familar hand. Connected to a familar torso.
A face stuck in agonizing eternity.
The shamans words made more sense.
Backing away from the body.
Thinking deeply. Damning his hands.
The thing that came as habit.
He broke his bow in the reflection of his maiden's eyes.
This war gone astray inside of him

Your name is the kind of name that makes you want to fall in love.
A not so common thing, my sistah.
The expression that appears across your face.
Planning our wedding day in verbatim to the rhythm of our heart.
Learning to dance between the gap of each throb.
Planting the seeds of unity now, so we can one day look back and see how much we've grown together

Cocoon

Err thing is on point.
Wrapping my words around your thought.
Your heart no longer a mannequin.
Bursting to life in full bliss.
Finding light in a world so dark.
Becoming more than a significant other.
My everything

I moved right into the apartment of your heart.
Making myself comfortable awaiting your embrace.
Helping you find a new hair style you can slay.
Black love, sweat pants.
Ponytails. Hot wings. A movie that supports how good we go together.
The revolution my heart makes.
You orbiting the center of my arms.
That conscious love that reveals how important you are to me.
Giving you the last slice of everything that is me.
Your eyes, your smile.
The holy trinity

Eccentric Love

It's a little different but the potential is more than there.
Falling in love like they do in movies..falling face first into the red linings of your heart.
A billion butterflies flutting about without a thing to do.
Soon tamed by a simple touch.
A simple call of your name.
The occurrence of your name flowing from my lips.
The water essential for growth.
Inspired to flow again.
Thinking your name out loud.
The after thought of silent echos, splashing about.
Falling into your heart face first

What happened to the possibility of dreams.
The motivation of seeing you when I close my eyes.
Beginning to live the rest of my life, there with you.
A higher perspective of connecting on a higher plane.
A certain enlightenment that scatters all shadows back to dark.
This is the light that surrounds you while I close my eyes and dream of nothing but you

In a war of arrows
Her heart was found.
Flaccid were the stem attached to the pointed tips.
Soaring the height of love.
Crashing down in a turbulent ******.
Flung from tight strings, bended wood.
The ground lay covered in the aftermath of thrill seeking
Underneath the shadow.
A shaman hung his head in such complex circumstances
An addiction to abuse

Particularly the application of beauty fades,
Unless applied skin deep.
Products brought in vain.
A practice that follows as is.
A thoughtful perception of truth.
A light that shines each time she smiles

I'm in love
That young black love.
That attention with no pressure.
Straight shot no chaser
That love at first sip.
Taking a cruise in the middle of the night.
The bass turned to the max.
Thinking the same thing
Heading nowhere in particular.
The first time hearing a **** *** song
Comparing it to you.
That young love matured to something grown
Something ****.
Stopped by a red light
Waiting for it to turn green.
Spending the night
Not wanting to see you go
Incense rolling papers and pandora

In the form of love she held me close.
Shaping the pieces of her heart into pills.
Without the proper prescription she advised that I take one once a day.
How foolish of me to exceed the dosage.
Unable to differentiate what was real.
Small sips of water, dilated pupils.
The mood swings felt between night and day.
The chemicals of her heart seen loud and clear.
Withdrawing myself from what I pictured the perfect love.
Moving from twice a day to as many as was needed.
Falling fast asleep. Waking up with sharp pains.
This was how fast my heart began to beat.
Swallowing each pill to ease the pain. Having gone so long without such embrace. 
I medicated myself in the hopes of staying alive.
A mass communion of pills gathered in the palm of my hand.
Easing her body into my mouth.
Swallowing her heart in an entirety of fragments.
This was how I came to overdose in a fantasy that wasn't meant for me

Beneath your womanly exterior lays a girl.
A girl thats cuddled up nice and warm in her bed.
If I could find big enough paper.
I'd roll you up until it stopped just above your stomach.
Leaving your arms and face free.
So you could rise your arms and smile like the flower you are.
When planted, flowers don't know how precious they are.
But they know they serve a divine purpose.
Just keep blossoming that beautiful smile and all the rest will reveal itself.
I wrapped your legs in paper so you wouldn't be constricted in anyway.
As well so I could find you whenever times get hard.
Also because I thought it would be funny.
But on a serious note.
You work hard enough as it is.
So while your stuck trying to figure your way out of your paper stem, I'll gladly bring you as many glasses of water it takes to water your roots.
I'm not sure how you feel about wet feet.
But it will gladly help you kick your way out of your paper stem.
That way I won't have to pick a flower I admire very much.
You could visit me just as I visit you.
Probably after kicking my *** for wrapping you in paper

Without the flap of tiny wings or heart shaped arrows.
I wish you a feeling of perpetual bliss.
A emotion without a single shed of clothing.
Revealing to you every scar, each flaw that exists outside the thought of you.
Trusting that you won't take for granted the tenderness of giving
something so rare. In exchange for a listening ear.
Each jitter that hides in anticipation, hoping that you'll come with understanding.
Leaving behind the need to run when you see that I am none of the superficial things that bring most fantasies together.
The lavish things that surround a fountain of thought. Two bodies that flow into each other creating something more powerful than thought alone could imagine.
A sudden feeling that flows out through the mouth and flourishes into something powerful.
This might that flows in current is what urges my heart to throb harder with your every thought. An ocean of everlasting depth.
Telling you how I feel in accordance to my hearts wishes.
Holding your hand in this urge, hoping you feel it's current.
Without fear of drowning, over-thinking what your reaction could possibly be.
The slightest splash of excitement covering the parts of us we didn't know were there.
Breaking a piece of myself off in each splash.
Eroding in thought.
The small pebbles and seashells that scatter about the coast.
Sinking in layer after layer of current.
Creating the cheek that swallows your dimple whole.
Leaving the whole experience as indescribable.
A frequent flood of ever rising bliss.
Melting away in this constant current of you.
Constantly flowing

Last Summer I dream't that I danced with you around the same time this year.
Alone in the park by the soles of filled shoes.
The indie sound of hearts racing in constant wonderment.
Tuning down the sound of our voices.
Our hands fitting perfectly inside one another.
The light of our eyes illuminating the sun.
Last Summer I couldn't begin to tell you how much I loved you.
Pyromaniacs in love with the Summer sun.
Falling in love with the deep circles our feet made.
Dancing alone in the park, recognizing ourselves in the reflection see through each others eyes.
The only escape that fills the massive void felt last Summer.
Listening to the sound of your voice laying down.
Feeling whole. Your hand inside if mine.
A recreation of this Summer seen last Summer.
Slowly looking up, holding on to the memories of last Summer

She was a porcelain figurine.
Fitted with big bright angel wings.
The arches of her heel lifted high.
The weight of emotions carried tall upon her back.
In mid flight she collapsed and broke a piece of her side.
Heart broken she feared that no one would look at her the same.
Once held high, looked to, to spread a ease of mind.
The burden of others piled high upon her back.
Not once did she notice the weight of her own.
Heartbroken she tried her best to hide her ceramic scar.
Afraid of what everyone would think.
A stone tear suddenly etched beneath her eye.
She tried her best to put the pieces back together, but no matter how she arranged them they just wouldn't fit.
Her wings now a dull off white, Her arch not as high as it once was.
She hid herself where no one would ever think to look.
Over by the street in the gutter where most leaves collected themselves.
It wasn't until she met a sad clown wearing torn clothes.
A dusty old hat. Sitting along the sidewalk of where she hid herself.
A blue tear painted on his upper cheek.
Soon as he saw the porcelain figurine he fell in love.
Collecting her broken pieces along with her hand. He loved her just the way she was.
The definition of her tear changed. Never before has she experienced such kindness from hands that asked for nothing in return.
Knowing only to give never once did she take the time to receive.
She looked astonished as he brushed the dirt from her wings.
Discarding her broken pieces in his pocket, replacing them with a piece of him

She was my bad habit, an addiction that went without measurement.
The many times I've felt myself with her.
The cold sweats I've felt myself miss her.
The times I've felt that I was missing out.
I needed her then and there.
Constantly searching.
I had no shame attempting to purposely overdose.
Knowing that she'd always be there.
My addiction.
Feeding my every desire.
Lacing bits of her in everything that I did.
My bad habit.
There wasn't a sense of pride when it came to her.
Giving my last everything.
Just to feel close to her

If you could be anything I'd like you to be an ice cream sundae.
Layered to perfection.
A picture perfect representation of how I see you.
Extra fudge drenched from each edge of the bowl.
Scandalous, the way you'd lay.
Extra cherries sitting on top of your head.
How devilishly **** that would be.
Inviting ourselves to be selfish with no end to how many
spoonfuls we'd take of each other.
Quenching need with melted thirst.
Devoured in everlasting bliss.
The lips that long to taste every inch of you.
Until the bowl is no more

I loved the way she felt.
Wearing her like a shirt.
Soft and snug.
I wrapped her arms around me, safeguarding her just as shes safeguarded me.
Her essence following me everywhere I went.
She was the perfect size.
The way she wrapped around me.
I buttoned her up, feeling the caress of her back.
The deep dimple that ensued.
Covering me with all of her.
I blushed at the warmth she provided.
When the time came, I hated to have to take her off.
The fear of washing away the stain of memories we have created.

There I was, caught in labyrinth.
Time & time again I found myself lost.
Following Cupid's arrow.
Round & round I turned.
Still I was a fool to not admit my denial.
Chasing an arrow not meant for me.
Around and around I sought.
Like a dog chasing it's tail

Above all monsters that linger in the dark.
Love is one that can take many shapes and forms.
A tug of the bed spread or the seal of closet doors.
No matter how tight they are pressed.
Still it finds a way to seep through.
Waiting to take you by the arm the very moment your eyes start to close.
Reminding you of that one thought you keep suppressed of all things.
Keeping you awake for just a moment longer.
Eyes that long for a deep sleep.
Peering over a sea of fabric.
The ***** of an arrow digging into an unexpected feeling.
Climbing from beneath the bed or the crack of the closet.

Reminding you of the thing you somewhat regret. With the one person you can't seem to stop thinking about.
That cupid, appearing with a sly grin.
Dressed as the boogie man, blending into shadows, dark red loafers.
Just as your moseying off to sleep.
There he stands, squaring his shoulders.
Remembering all the late night trips you took to the fridge.
Who would have took cupid as a gymnast. Hiding here or there.
Or a health nut that despises anything outside of strawberry hearts

Love, such an abstract thing.
Spread across a canvas.
Made seen by the help of brush bristles.
A vivid depiction of clear bottles made a mess.
I hope your not afraid of painting with ***** hands.
The feel of paint staining clean hands.
Here.
No one is innocent.
Not even the canvas which is neither seen nor heard

I opened her closed fingers.
Filling them with the open space of gaps between mine.
These things words could not say.
Still she remained my journal.
Always.
Even if we didn't know what to say.

I find her between the dimples of happy couples
and the sparkling cider of fluid hands: Coming together at 
the stem

I disciplined myself in her.
Humbling myself in her mold.
First my body then my soul.
Painting myself with her skin.
She scribbled her name across me.
Using her finger as a pencil, gently scribbling.
I don't want to sound crazy. But I thought she was suppose to be
the object of my affection not the other way around.
I love how she does that

When I look at her.
I don't see color.
Not the tone of her skin, nor the clothes she wore.
She was a woman. Held upright within her own atmosphere.
She wasn't to be made of material possession.
With one look you'd know why she was regarded as every artist's muse.
But if you'd ever speak to her without regard to which aerosol
imitated her best.
She'd reply she just longed to be

Each morning at work it starts.
That unquiet chatter that rattles the calmest of patience.
That one moment of clarity now gone.
The gathered thoughts gone astray.
Scattered about in every direction.
This loud obnoxious sound.
Echoing about , absorbing silence in a matter of minutes.
That one voice that for some reason or another.
Labeled as a menace, a void of emptiness that causes commotion just because.
A simple why only provokes this voice to carry on instead of grasping the hint that if you don't have anything to say, then it's best to keep quiet.
The thought of filling out a transfer just to get away grows more enticing day by day.
To gain a moments peace from the ramble of 8 hours a day.
The constant following and nagging.
The belly aching of a pebble, thrown front side up, falling, crashing into a pool of water.
Creating a constant ripple that spreads in every direction.
This was how he sent my thoughts in disarray each and every morning.
So much so, I began to fantasizing about duct tape

I wandered into you by mistake.
But for what it's worth.
The only thing legislation could do for me: Is make you a real city, state.
Only then could you truly see what I see everytime I look at you.
A unconditional love each block I walk.
I belong to you: each part of you, now apart of me.
Lost in the ever blinding light rising over the horizon.
Tall buildings sculpted with the light of your eyes.
Overcoming the dark.
Awaiting the coming of your smile.
Little by little as dawn inches closer

There sat a biscuit.
Watching everyone pass by as it sat behind the glass.
Baked fresh, it wondered whose life it would come into.
Spreading much delight.
A divine purpose.
Sat on a plate covered with other food.
Covered in syrup.
Meeting where reason becomes purpose.
If it had legs, it would walk outside and advertise it's warm goodness.
Covered in gravy, perhaps cheese.
The world we live in.
Fast food

She was like a banana.
The best part of her was on the inside.
The amount of insulin I'd need trying to devour her whole.
God knows how much I love the thought of that.
The effect she'd have on me.
Each time I'd see her I'd unravel her piece by piece until all of her shown like never before.
The only problem was I was allergic to bananas.
Although her smell was intoxicating.
One taste of her and my throat would instantly swell.
Though I wouldn't prefer anything artificial.
I wanted the real thing.
When I revealed all of this to her she just laughed.
She laughed her *** off as a matter of fact.
Rocking back and forth.
Her little brown shoes clicking together.
Her yellow skin now a bit red.
Her freckles now in full view.
When I asked why she laughed she said its quite alright.
Most people I've met speak so highly of themselves.
Your the first person to admit you correctly know how to open a banana.

There was something about her eyes.
Something comforting yet.
No matter how beautiful her lips could vocalize.
Nothing could compare to wandering the pupils of her eyes.
Those dark spheres that held so much in.
They'd expand then shrink
Almost as if they took a breath.
I don't know if it was anxiety,
The attempt of labeling this urge of wanting to ask so badly why they hung the way they did.
Knowing all of me but refusing to speak.
Those soft spoken eyes that looked like they could speak for hours.
I felt a tingling in my chest.
An explosion of sorts.
Scattering in every direction.
Something in me just wanted to blurt out what is it already.
Feeling this urge travel up my throat.
The brink of knowing you shouldn't but not wanting to listen to that inner voice that could jeopardize her comfort.
Wanting to know more about her,
Her lips compelled more to this connection.
The continuing of infatuation.
I slid my back against the side of her nose.
Easing my shoulder against the corner of her right eye.
I couldn't explain this comfort.
Allowing myself to be at ease with someone I barley knew.
But could totally relate.
Afraid to speak in fear of being totally misunderstood.
Things that might have taken place so far from where she stood, being in two places at one time.
I sought to understand.
Listening to a calm hush between us two.
Listening deeply for any indication, wondering if the feeling was mutual.
The conversation I longed to have with our backs now against the wall.
She'd politely stare.
Letting the sun polish her eyes a different shade.
Then out of the blue.
She turned to me and thanked me for understanding.
Knowing that not everything required an answer, not even words for that matter.
Continuing to sit beside her and share the comfort of ultimate silence.
Deep down I still wanted to blurt what was it about her eyes.
Those warm and inviting eyes.
Before I knew it I just started blabbing.
An instantaneous combustion of conversation happening out of nowhere.
My voice becoming hers. Revealing my curiosity.
How I've wandered around her eyes the moments I've sat next to her.
And before she knew it, they started talking.
Guiding me further into them

She's the thought that occurs in my mind.
The one that shows up without warning.
A gallon of gasoline, a handful of matches.
The spark that ignites there is brighter than anything
I've ever seen.
Setting fire to anything that isn't her.
I couldn't have saved myself If I tried.
Watching everything reduce to individual piles of rubble.
Shes recklessly chaotic.
Perfectly complexed in the way that she stands.
Striking the head of the match on the bottom of her heel.
There she stands watching everything burn.
Covering herself with my faults.
There she warms her heart by the fire.
Stoking the fire with old memories.
Slapping my hand each time I reach for one.
She's that one thought that asks me to hand her more matches.
Paying no never mind to if she's burned herself or not.
Dousing everything in gasoline that surrounds her.
Her reply to everything.
Revealing a devious grin, extending her hand for more matches.
Theres no doubt in my mind that she's a devil disguised in angel wings.
Roasting her halo over the fire,
Soon to press against me.
Branding me with her everlasting essence

She moved about as the sea
And I the shore she'd visit every so often.
Each grain moist with infatuation.
I wish she'd stay a bit longer.
Kissing above her eye.
A paradise unfolded between our every caress.
Filling the gaps of when I missed her most.
Splashing against the shore.
Finding endless bliss in the current of the wind.
Taking a piece of me whenever she'd leave
Until next time

Her heart was but a loaf of bread,
Rather than cut herself in pieces.
She'd give the entirety of her loaf.
Each grain saturated in nothing but generosity.
The pride of giving your all without want for return.
It was this reason that butter knives and knives alike longed for her most.
To ease themselves inside her and melt away into the tenderness that only she knew as whole.
She harvested herself, knowing only the delight of what it's like to give.
Never knowing the emptiness of greed,
Not knowing the pain she'd soon receive

I plumped down sinking back first into the middle of the cushion.
Resting my arms behind my head.
Thoughts of spending the rest of my life here crossed my mind.
Now drifting off in thought.
I watched the sun drift off into the horizon.
Peering through half closed curtains. The inside of her eyes.
I always wondered what things looked like from here.
A beautiful thing, the clouds engulfed by one another.
Patiently laying there, feet spread apart. Wider than my shoulders.
The fear of drowning never crossed my mind, Sailing so far from I originally docked myself.
The closest I've ever came to setting sail before this moment was dangling my feet from the pier.
Hanging from the edge of her eyebrows.
By far one of the best memories happening before my eyes.
I loved how this felt. Surrounded in total comfort.
Embraced by nothing except cushion.
I sunk deep. My outer face cradled by cushion.
Watching the current of clouds ripple across the sky.
Snuggling my head deeper into the cushion.
Internalizing the thought of spending the rest of my life here.
Laying on the cushion of her heart.
Viewing the world through her eyes

I hated knowing the fact that she was absent.
Missing the feel of her caress.
The arms that slipped over mine as comfortable as a jacket.

It was therapeutic in a sense.
The warmth that accompanied a simple smile spread across my face.
Knowing that she was there.
It wasn't as easy as going to the store.
Constantly trying on jackets looking for the right fit,
Paying no never mind to the tags that read different sizes.

The 2x's. 1x's. Sometimes disused as the wrong size.
No matter the store, there would never be another her.
I hated imagining the chime that would sing from under the mat when one foot hit the right spot walking into the store.
The awkward look passed from one customer to the other, the hassle of standing in line.
No, this was far from comfortable.
The ease of having what you need unexpectedly given to you, all of a sudden taken away.
The seams of her arms tailored around mine.
Snug against my back, her head as the collar laid against my neck, my chest.

What I needed was her, without her nothing felt right

She, herself was the labyrinth the minotaur protected. As through her heart lead a passage to heaven

I stumbled upon a skeleton,
Upon finding it. I picked it up and took it back home laying it on the table.
I stared long and hard at the dried up bones, letting my eyes wander up and down.
I grabbed a few blankets, anything I could find to compensate for everything that was missing.
Going out and about the streets getting everything I could to revive the skeleton.
Watching the bottom jaw drop and turn my direction.
A broken spirit that's long forgotten the touch of a generous hand.
A sudden change, watching a pale figure fill with color.
The time taken finding piece by piece, doing my best to stitch together all the fragments I found.
Watching it lay on the table, a full skeleton.
Now filled with flesh, play doe. Anything I could find.
I filled it with every essence of my dream girl, perfectly sculpting her face until perfection.
There wasn't anything superficial or vain about this, what I was attempting was creating love at first sight.
Accepting the good as well as the tragic misfortune of stumbling upon a skeleton.

Pacing back and forth at first then deciding to pick it up.
Dark holes filling the spaces where eyes use to be.
Going out finding different bits and pieces to fit a personality other than my own.

I grew excited at the very thought.
A happening, bonding with something other than myself.
It felt natural, feeling my thoughts roll off of my tongue.
My time was no longer my own.
Watching her slowly come back to life.

Filling her with a bit of my philosophy. My experiences.
I conversed while she lay there in silence.

Her eyebrow curved, Trying to make sense of everything that's going on.

She eventually began to move, she began to speak, filling me with her past experiences

Thoughts and ideas.

The more that time went on,

The more I became of her.

She noticed the subtle change of how quiet I became.

The will to want to do anything now gone.

Her face drooped over now staring at me with those deep dark spaces I have yet to fill.

Before I could ask what was wrong she revealed a dark truth about her past.

Correcting her face in the mirror.

She told me that she watched me pace back and forth, debating whether or not to leave her there.

That due to the curse that was placed on her, no matter what happens she will forever be a monster.

Devouring those that encounter her.

I pleaded that I meant to do her no harm, to no avail.

The damage was done