This muscle which I speak
Often spoke but never emphasized
This muscle than often throbs
aches often
Impatiently selfish
Only thinking of itself
This steady throb
Aches on and on
Afraid to sleep in fear of missing the next moment
Realizing that reality is much better than the next
This muscle which I speak
Often spoke but never emphasized
A quiet calm that screams loudly
Unheard because of fear
Being seen as vivid
This bright color that laughs in color
Not afraid to be itself
This muscle which I speak.
Continuously patient
Waiting to be seen
Waiting to be heard
Waiting to be felt
This muscle which I speak
The presence of fascination
Otherwise near
Fast paced
Beating
This urgent vulnerability
Being needed
Being felt
From where does this muscle begin to beat it's fastest
The answer is quite simple
This muscle which I speak
Often spoke but never emphasized
Beats it's fastest around you

On the day I met you
I woke up to find it a dream
I saved all the best parts
Revealing that I still felt empty.
I was truly convinced without a shadow of a doubt
The silence of a single moment
Forever captured
Forever changed
Perhaps a slip of the unconscious tongue
The realization that there is no you
Force feeding habit
The weakness that ends after each hello
Pretending not to see reality for what it really is
For what purpose
The hug of dreams
Resonating what open eyes cannot see
Were you ever afraid
The surprise of disappointment
I fought to keep my eyes closed
Only for them to open

In addition;
The sails flapped loosely in the wind
Committed to providing it's best chance searching the sky
Things not seen below the patter of crashing waves.
Adjusting each sail
The ship rising and falling
The throb of an intrigued chest
No longer tied at Port
Anchorage at the sides
The sail snaps
Growing tighter by the moment
The breeze spraying ocean mist
Of wild waves
Untamed
Stomach stood still
The scrubbing sound of latches rattle against the pole
Paranoid that we could go overboard at any moment slicing through the rickety waves
Teddering left then right
Shaken backward and forward
Humbly seeking God's grace
Seeking strength in the midst of storm
Ranting at the sky in a boat so small
This war was you
This sea your heart
Faith to see a brighter day
Following a cracked compass

I don't want to drink again
No, not from those lips
That tiny bottle of pending doom with little tiny labels marked warning.
Under the table, grabbing walls
Compensation for the shot glass full of stained breath
There is no amount of emotional comfort that doesn't lead to physical contact.
My lips; your essence
There isn't a support group that can teach that
The urge to resist the glare of the bottle
Simple steps that lead to complete disaster
The calling of your name
The way you splash against my lips.
I don't want to drink again
My bad habit
My secret craving
A distinct hint that I need you again.
Where's pride in this infatuation
The need to have you again
This uncontrollable substance
Marked with warning labels
Bottled emotion that seeps at anytime.
The need of not caring who's around.
Again, pride where are you

And like that
I was strung out on every word she spoke
Overwhelmed by such sensation I didn't want to interrupt
I mean everyone has one greeting or another
But this
This was *** being passed from lip to lip
The tightening of eyebrows engaged in thought provoking euphoria
The tingling of ears
Rather difficult keeping the mind off anything other than.
But contrary to expression
I sat dumbfounded
The biggest knot on the log
Filling gaps of silence.
I practically grabbed the light from the ceiling and shone it on her
Inviting myself into every phrase every fragment that came out of her mouth
Anything to keep her talking.
The things that would come out of this woman's mouth
At that moment
I was convinced that I needed to pack a bag and move
Her whole face lit with such delight
Every wrinkle, every indentation
The only problem was finding the perfect spot to call home

In the book of her
There is a chapter often skipped.
Soft spoken, never read aloud.
In the book of her
This chapter is chaperone by guilt, regret
A wonderful chapter not easily accepted by those whom thumb straight to it
Often the chapter after is most fulfilling.
This unique chapter is what makes her well her
No fancy words, no editorial staff
Just the thoughts she keeps to herself.
The wonderful thoughts often seen as constellations that fill the night sky
A combustion of goofy laughs Noone hears and conversations amongst herself.
A priceless vocabulary of made up words and unused slogans
A chapter that keeps up with all of her cheat dates filled with loads of chocolate drenched with more chocolate.
The things that are all worthwhile as well as the things that make her feel insecure.
In the book of her
This is one of the best chapters
One hardly anyone stops to read

There sits an geisha along
The shore
When will love arrive; the ocean her tears have cried
Awaiting the sound of Orr like arms to paddle through
Melancholy puddle.
Her hair shimmers ebony
Awaiting a love that crosses the sea
Her Wooden sandels no longer echo above gravel and dirt
Awaiting their sound to be replaced. Repeated over and over
Laped by the lapel of rescuing arms.
There she sits alone by the shore
Seducing the tears she has made; praying a love fair and true
The koi of her dream refuses to swim
Alone she waits by an ocean she's made

I've fallen into the abyss; fingers toes nothing to grasp.
I've fallen into the insanity of your heart
With constant spinning of constant darkness.
Instantaneously forgetting what it's like to stand on solid ground

And when she cut the radio on
Everything became so clear
I never heard the words to my favorite song; I listened intently.
Not only capturing the words
But this very moment.
Every expression
The amount of thought put into this exchanged gesture.
What was this
It wasn't rock, it wasn't pop
It's wasn't the mellow tone of rhythm and blues
What was this
This explosion that occurred with the next look of her eyes
Like psychedelic euphoria
Oozing from our lips
Erratic heart throbs pulsating through the air waves
Connecting us,
No matter how far we were

I had an inability to understand the effect she had on me,
A drug that revealed every high without the lows that accompanied.
At least until later
The emotional distance that kept me wondering if in fact that what I felt was real.
The quiver of her skin on my lips
The need to be pulled tighter
The inherit lows that came about seemingly out of  nowhere.
Just as her blaze went out
Brimming around tight pressed thumb and pointer
The extinguished paper left behind
Discarded
Which one was me,
Which was her

Perhaps she never loved me for me,
Perhaps she loved the song that I sung that reminded her of another; long sense gone.
I always sound the most infectious when I sound like someone else
Then perhaps too; she never saw me for me

To lie for me was some what of a big deal
To lie for me was mundane in the existence of truth.
More of an prediction of the next thought or action
From one moment to the next as it's quite hard to say whats done
relying on reaction alone.
So unlike myself, a rare moment of potential
Behind the rotation of lips spinning on the axis of conversation
In all honesty
The forgetting of names, unintentional speaking.
What led to this quantum of unparallel thinking
This constant spinning of transcendence.
Earth
The raising and falling of the sun
You never say hey or look my way
but insist to make up for the moments missed in the abundance of choice
Precisely the point of rockets
Blasting off
Casting sheet metal and other casings into the atmosphere
before it's destination.
The missing pieces found, later researched to be placed in some big
museum sooner or later.
When does our leap year begin, has it passed
The gravity of thought preceding before step
To me the truth was that much appealing
Removing the dark side that covered the moon
The detail presented in an telescopic view missed by most.
Turning the calendar
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't
waiting for the next leap year to occur

Her love was rebellious,
Perfectly Defiant to man made testimony
Testimonies sent fluttering page after page handwritten by scholars without imagination.
Her love was rebellious
A pen waiting to be relived of its ink.
A stamp of emotion
Which leaves uncertain marks
Semi colons and closed parentheses.
The face of man left across
blue lines of paper.
Would she circumvent.
The page left blank lost in thought
Are we certain we are made in God's image
Man made names, submission to rebuttal of faith.
The alpha and omega extended with each reach of our hand.
A form of Religion beginning with each smile of her lips.
Branching from each thought of the red stem,
Three holes
Spouting lines of thought.
Doodles of string like hair.
Strings for arms, legs
Two circles used as breast
The details that make us so silly
Rebellious in the sense of drawing outside of the lines.
These fragile thoughts drawn on paper
With the concept
Nothing is as beautifully drawn as we imagine

She was a victim of my creative stimulus,
But I, no Frankenstein.
Great change brings sudden fear.
In brutal honesty,
Could she perhaps see I was the one dead searching for life through her all along.
All along I the sheet of paper that's become delicate to the wither of her hand.
The ideals and sketches
Alert that any moment I could be *** up and thrown to the side.
Without the modest nod of ink from her pen.
With careful eyes, thoughts only divert so long.
My hand longs to touch
But my mind is not so such anymore.
At this point religion became unaffordable.
I now suffered misery of a different sort, not wanting to lose what we've created.
I Feared she'd flee once she sees me for what I really am
A hideous creature searching for an perpetual sense of resurrection with
The acceptance of growing old with someone

She was curiously odd
A perfect stranger appearing after complete disaster
An accidental shoulder bump
coincidence to the next moment
She didn't let the world tell her who she was
She just was
She was Godlike in manner
The way she appeared
One moment nothing
The next a gust of wind, fast paced
crammed beneath the echo of feet against concrete
Next thing I knew she was gone

Her heart was like an Hershey's kiss
It's been quite a while since I've had a craving for such,
It's actually been quite a while since I've had one come to think of it.
I mean literally there are so many things that go on throughout the day
to actually sit down and realize hey the only thing missing right now is a bit of chocolate.
Unbecoming I was caught red handed. Attempting to take the last one out the bag.
It's not like I was a heathen or anything, giving the impression that I was to tear the paper off
shred by shred leaving her with nothing but the wrapper.
I would have shared in the manifestation of that one small thing becoming something greater.
She had something to be desired
She had something that I desired, something offered that I've never quite had
before.
Mouth watering in thought.
She presented a noteworthy question, one til this day I think we both know the answer to.
Only fitting after being overlooked so many times that it came natural
Giving pieces of herself wrapped up in this fancy tin foil only to be used.
Quite understable,
But she didn't understand this incredible urge that had to be filled

At times like this you scare me the most,
At times like this is when I seriously take into consideration the whole cup full, being half full theory.
At what point do I open the refrigerator,
At what point do I let the cup tilt over.
Yearning to sip every drip.
Every part of you that swirls around my taste buds.
Becoming less of me and more of you.
The sweet disaster of drinking out of an heart shaped straw.
Watching every moment pass through air bubbles of the straw, every bend. Every curve.
Dreading to hear the sound that echos all gone.
Realizing that at any point this could be the pivotal end of how we came to be.
With you there is no refill,
There is no running back to the store in manic rush.
No other brand of pop to replace that one perfect moment we met.
I'd rather drink you now rather than spend life wondering why the **** didn't I finish that drink

The stone that the builder refused,
Seeking refuge of purpose, justifying reason.
The cornerstone of structure, a cement paste.
Made solid through belief, faith that nothing is in vain.
The cracks and chipped edges smoothed out, made fresh.
The testimonial that throughout change, we remain strong.
Although ruin is soon to fall, the foundation remains.
Direct contact made between eye and hand.
Reaching over something based off appearance.
Sulk covered stone, passed over again.
The same stone provides shelter, protection.
What could justify such action, the coming of regret
Not knowing the perception of purpose.
The stone that the builder refused will be the very one you come running back to in time of need,
As wood often folds and bends.
The hammering of nails and twist of screws cannot change that
Self indulgent contractor

Her voice, angelic & free of restraint
Easily calming as the wind.
There's not a thing I'd change about the way the wind blows.
All of the good things that come as each breath slips between her lips.
The expressions her face would make conversing about any thing,
An language understood in the complete silence our eyes would make,
With complete permission to rest my ear against her voice,
The peace of mind offered by the touch of her soul.
The individually that separates her voice from that of the world.

Underneath the bright Hong Kong lights
The train darts off into the night.
The man next to me speaks in silence,
Nodding to the soft sound of the engine.
Head nestled into the comfort of the seat.
His head leaned against the window. Newspaper folded on his lap.
The window reflects the city lights.
A clear view of the stars that rest just above.
Twinkles outnumbered by the passing of city lights.
Folds of sheet metal and bolts welded together
Layer after layer.
The discovery of invention darting through the underground tunnel
watching the stars from the other side.
A sweet escape from the thoughts that make us feel trapped,
concealed.
The wrinkles on the mans face next to me droops,
he's sleep.
The innovation of being at ease.
And with a yawn and a stretch, soon I will be too

If my heart were a book
she'd dance across the pages.
Unfolding the creases folded for a later time
Replacing them with the bookmark of her kiss.
Opening each page, carefully reading with the glimpse of each truth,
The resuscitation of closed pages
Now able to breathe.
A survivor of tarnished pages and beaten cover.
She didn't seem to mind, carefree, joyful, what possessed her smile.
Reminding me of a better me, the well being of my very soul
laid in her hands without need for a shelf

And endure all it does, but how profound would it be. Realizing that  the whole time we are solving for X deep down knowing all the long what X really is. These repressed feelings thought as dangerous
As it comes in the most unexpected form.
The answers that we seek,
Broken down algorithms that never quite feed ourselves of need, quickly becoming an sensation of want.
Quickly moving on to the next problem.
When in reality, we fail to embrace what we've wanted the entire time.
Truly depending on the difficulty of the problem

Her hair tangles in the wind,
Bodies hurl themselves at her feet, behold a Queen held high. A goddess.
The sun drowned in her smile,
welcoming the coming of her steps. A huntress vanishing into a corner of thought.
Her hair flies free, thankful with each step.
A celebration of the strands of hair that drop across her brow.
I gazed from a far, not realizing that I've lived my dream

I could not see tomorrow without the view of the sunrise reflecting off of your eyes,
If somewhere far off the coast,
The waves echoed soundlessly.
I'd imagine your voice filling the gap in the times you were most happy.
This deep feeling that something was truly missing when on the surface everything appeared fine.
To what response do I owe the hands that created us to be,
What would happen if indeed the waves went without sound.
I dare not think, regardless of their loss of sleep.
The wanting of something deeper, the needing of something that fills the depth of eyes that long for tomorrow.
The three dimensional sphere that revolves around your very thought.
This faith that if the waves should ever stop, that you would be there to lull me to sleep,
Not just with your beautiful voice, but the patter of your heart against my ear,
The innermost faith that reacts without a single thought,
The extension of God's love living and breathing through every move, every thought that you have.
The very beginning of each and every thought I have of you
Without cease or end

All I ask is that you hold on to me.
Right now I feel that I am out of control,
With no sense of control. A projectile flying through the windshield.
Not knowing what to do besides brace myself for the impact.
The thought of losing control. Feeling that things are way out of hand.
When in reality things may be fine, seeking assurance of a firm hold
To calm the thoughts that run rampant.
The feeling of being tossed through the air without steady balance.
In these moments it is you that I seek for reassurance.
If only for a moment, grab me as tight as you can.
Show me that things are not as they seem.
Ease the feeling of insecurity in the times when thoughts get the better of me.
That I am flying face forward through the windshield without knowing how to properly brace myself.
In the midst of these thoughts, I am glad that you are my safe belt.
Even if it's the slightest tug, I appreciate you for always being there.
For being by my side even when you don't have to,
Thank you for being the miracle that has saved my life so many times

I fell into an absent minded slumber,
One where it was impossible to raise,
Unable to rise from which I fell I found an mattress of curiosity which I continuously fell under the conditions which I could barely explain.
I seeped deeper feeling every thread of fabric.
Giving myself something perhaps I didn't know existed.
I abandoned what I knew as moral reasoning.
Instead, choosing to let this sensation take control.
For once I felt like I had found a place that felt like home.
In every sense of the word.
Existing in every sound my heart chose to utter where words only complicated everything.
I found passion in exploring the unknown, the constant thought that loomed every thought I came face to face with.
The comforter splashing beneath me grasping the back of my head. The back of my body.
I refused to fabricate this as a scandal,
Giving myself something I've never before experienced.
Allowing myself to become attached to every fiber, every thread.
Lukewarm flutters wrinkling beneath my body, the pleasure of falling in complete comfort.
I conclude hating myself for not experiencing this subtle sensation sooner, for not desiring to break away from what I thought was life in it's full meaning.
Instead allowing the full embodiment of acceptance.
Finding that I was the only thing holding me back
Falling into the liberation of her heart
I've still yet to wake

I could not see tomorrow without the view of the sunrise reflecting off of your eyes,
If somewhere far off the coast,
The waves echoed soundlessly.
I'd imagine your voice filling the gap in the times you were most happy.
This deep feeling that something was truly missing when on the surface everything appeared fine.
To what response do I owe the hands that created us to be,
What would happen if indeed the waves went without sound.
I dare not think, regardless of their loss of sleep.
The wanting of something deeper, the needing of something that fills the depth of eyes that long for tomorrow.
The three dimensional sphere that revolves around your very thought.
This faith that if the waves should ever stop, that you would be there to lull me to sleep,
Not just with your beautiful voice, but the patter of your heart against my ear,
The innermost faith that reacts without a single thought,
The extension of God's love living and breathing through every move, every thought that you have.
The very beginning of each and every thought I have of you
Without cease or end

I felt your kiss against my lips,
Long before realizing how much I needed you.
I wish I could explain the depth of how much I drowned in the pool of your

 

eyes,
How much my eyes have wept the times you were nowhere to be found,
You have shown me the definition of your name, as to how important you are.
Your name, the feel of you against every thought.
That was the defining moment of my life,
The precious thoughts that go on with no end in sight,
The sensation that arrives with every smile
How fragile these thoughts really are.
The distance between you and I
the press of your lips against mine, untold truths revealed with something so

 

simple, the depth of sinking, becoming every morsel soaked in your mouth.
The nights spent wondering if you thought of me the way I've thought of you,
These feelings kept deep, sealed in a bottle hoping you'd return but soon

 

realizing there wasn't a bottle big enough to keep these thoughts of you,
I didn't want to, truth of the matter I never did,
Sitting there by the coast of you longing to sail away
Watching you with eyes closed wishing you were here.
To feel your lips against mine,
Eyes seeping deep into yours,
The only thing I've ever seen with open eyes

There is something about her,
This thought that travels across the mind.
Breathed with every breath that slips through open lips.
What is paradise,
Is it the sound that is vocalized when she speaks,
The stare shared from eye to eye, lost in thought.
Fragments of truth separated by the longing that occurs
Each time I realize the depth of how much she quenches this desire.
Swimming away in the swirl of her eye over by the shore of her thighs.
A correlation of thoughts that pass as the breeze, her breath sweeping pass
brushing my face with much delight. The thought of breathing each other in
She travels without so much as a single bag, passing from one thought to the next.
******* herself subtlety in the waves that crash into each other,
The taste of love spread across her lips, The sun blossoming it's last glint of light
drifting into the horizon of her eye.
A tourist whom longs to stay in the shores of her in thought.
Swaying to the palm trees by the bungalow of closed arms
where the waves brush against the grains of sand soon to sink to the bottom
Florissant bulbs hang on the wall, igniting passion from string to bulb.
A much needed combustion reminding us just who we really are.
From here,
I am a tourist whom longs to travel her, my paradise
With sand covered feet

Her love was like a molotov,
Spreading across everything it touched. manifesting into everything I'd ever know,
Devouring every bit of me in exciting fashion.
I became Drenched in this infatuation without warning,
Gasoline soaked clothes enticed by the flick of a lighter.
I found myself helpless in
this constant flame, grown out at every flicker,  its very touch.
Bright hues of red. Demanding full attention, her love.
I protested my profession in contempt, do I stay,
Do I lay flat and accept the spontaneity of each moment,
Slowly passing.
I held up my sign in an attempt to keep her from crossing the line. A plea of an mistaken cliché, not understanding everything she knew she wanted,
Still she fled towards me,
Leaving me helpless to every whim, every desire she offered.
I stood there lost in desire,
A simple decree of something I've never understood.
This incendiary combustion that took place out of nowhere.
The things said in utter silence,
The sound of who we once were shattering against the ground

The stars began to fall,
Coinciding with the flight of dreams.
Silver halos disappearing from sight,
The sky now dim lost in thought,
imagining paradise with eyes shut.
A world so dark,
Caught in a memory where the stars once shone.
A place I thought you'd always be.
The sky now open, without a single star.
A place I always thought you'd be.
Forever in my thoughts I'll keep you

Everything for the moment is inexplicable,
I wish I could give you this feeling,
To indulge in these moments of bliss that pass with each smile fleeting pass as the moments that fill the gap between us both.
Empty hands that long for something to grasp,
The air that escapes our lungs presenting it's ****** at the highest peak of the thoughts that occur when you aren't around.
The feel of your name against my tongue,
The thrill of watching the horizon mirror your eyes,
Watching myself in a place I wish I could dwell.
Wishing I could visit at least once or twice.
An all expense vacation to a place I've only dreamt
An early retirement, picturing myself in the hammock of your eyes.
Growing old without a care in the world.
The mist of the ocean cascading down the thought of spending just a moment there, The volcanos that implode inside out just at the thought of you.
Wondering if I could spend the rest of my life there,
Forever more by the bonfire that ignites every stare that connects you and I.
Without need for a passport, why would I venture else where when the place I'd really like to go is right in front of me

And it is through that extension
The reason why you were created,
I turn to you because you make me better,
This spiritual sensation that alleviates all pain.
Never think that you are a burden
Through out everything that goes on through out the day
my favorite time is being able to rest my head on you and drift away.
I know at times it's hard to believe, especially the after thought of things transpired. The need to over think the stress of work the constant build up in times I should cater to your waking need, your wants.
Nothing can overshadow the way I feel about you, at times I know that it gets blurred but the way I feel about you now is the same way I felt when I first met you. Another thought couldn't begin to compare to the infinite light that shines  as you cross my mind.
The defining aspect of being around someone that you truly care about.
The feel of you in my arms, the caress of thoughts that fill your head resting against my ears.
I wouldn't trade those moments for anything.
Humbled in your presence, the fear of losing something so precious as you.
I kneel at the very reason why this alter I have of you is built so high, in my mind.
Though in thought I'd never pacify you, not wanting you to feel confined to one single thought or emotion.
Though not perfect I attempt to show you but end up pushing you further away but hope that somewhere, throughout the thoughts that cross your mind in a day,
That somewhere you think of me just as I think of you.
Even if it's the smallest space that fills your mind.
That in itself would mean the world to me

If my next breath happened to be my last,
I'd want your voice to be the last I'd ever hear.
Revealing just how much I thought of you.
A belief that my single purpose for living was you.
This emphasis of religion that is built on devotion .
Far more importantly that I've lived not only myself.
Giving up everything material .
This spiritual purpose that has become more than a mental sensibility .
If heaven was truly found on earth, I'd repent only to hear your voice one last time

In the lapse of a minute, before that same minute revolves into two.
A kiss swoons in the embrace of passion.
A daydream of eternity.
Being lost in a single minute.
Heads tilt in comfort, bringing the ease of comfort.
Eyes no longer weary in the caress of cheeks.
The rapid beating of hearts blossoming from a bud into full bloom.
In the lapse of seconds that leap head first into eternity

With lips soft, tender.
I imagine the stars come down and kiss them nightly.
Leaving their home to visit an angel whom found her home here.
With tired wings her sighs paint the clouds, falling in love with the view of horizon.
Her eyes are much prettier in person.
Just as the sun rises, it hates to say goodbye.
Changing its position in the sky.
When I am with her the sun doesn't shine as bright.
Eyes close,  hidden in laughter.
Illuminated in the grace of how remarkable she really is.
And it is that same look that I see in her eyes spread across the horizon.
Just sitting here waiting for the stars to disappear to their favorite place

I thought I told you about it;
The dream I had with eyes wide open.
I met this girl whom sparked a world of curiosity.
The way she stares, the sparklers that melt away in her eyes.
She traced the sky with them, her stare.
Little by little like the stem I was devoured;
Lost in conversation we ventured along the fringe of the sky.
An internal combustion of our hearts; black cats and roman candles shot into the air as flares,
Tumbling down, Cascading into a world of thought.
Venturing off into the smallest detail, not wanting this moment to end.
This vivid display captured under bright shades of red green and purple,
This implosion consisting of her and I.
This fragile yet explosive feeling shot into the sky in quick bursts of fireworks.
Zooming head first into infatuation .
Such liberty given with the touch of lips. tender, passionate.
I thought I told you how bright you've made everything

I've asked to be blessed with your melodious voice,
The look in your eye a fine rendition of feelings kept cryptic.
Composing words sung upon heart strings Under the gleam of street lights in a moving car,
Thinking of the year we were born, the longevity of a face like yours mixed with a face like mine.
Arranging life plans piece by piece in the gentle notes played by the throb of our hearts.
Musician, songwriter. Beautiful queen.
The beauty found when eyes close for a brief moment.
Listening to the song our heart plays at full volume.
Reliving the look in your eye.
Composing another time, another place.
Nothing compares to my favorite song.
To be continued next time we meet,
Musician, songwriter. Beautiful queen.

Colors primarily exist knowing one specific hue,
Neutral in a sense, knowing nothing of the vivid expectation that exists outside of itself.
Then comes the brush revealing more than meets the eye.
Each bristle moist with enlightenment.
The innocence of a sudden touch brimming at the edge of comfort,
discussing need to further exploration.
This expectation which broadens the spectrum.
A social anxiety now left behind but still lives in fear.
This is where you come in,
The zest of something new.
Experiences otherwise thought about, yet never acted upon.
The distance between the colors are filled by the brush,
creating something totally new altogether.
Although the color is either brighter or darker,
The experience is still the same.
The intensity of longing for one another, no longer alone.
Peeping behind a glass curious about the what if's of curiosity.
Adding large detail to the picture painted on the grains of canvas
Expanding in contrast to which point of view is used to view the picture
But still lost in a nervous jitter of being lost in a feeling that's altogether brand new.
This broad spectrum of mixing colors to make something brand new.
Committing to the outside world for better or worse upon the criticism of dark hues that make shadows out of the light cast on one another.
This spectrum between you and I.
Whose color can be a favorite if we both dwell in delight,
The simple awe of one another, no longer viewing things as one sided
but in the broad spectrum for things provided by you

His flower blooms in the wind,
Blossoming each direction the wind blows.
Gracefully tucked in the curled petals of self love, Her love.
His flower is innocent, Her petals lingering with the aroma of her lips.
Devoured by the breeze that swoops pass. Engulfed in passion,
His flower. Her love. Her lips.
His flower exuberantly intellectual.
Her stem a temple of spiritual delight, the way she sways, his flower.
Her leaflets drenched with infatuation, Her love is mute.
A bold splash of violet that speaks louder than any word.
There isn't a perfume sweeter than her fragrance.
The bees that loom around in circles, inebriated from such intoxication.
They fall short of her love, Her lips, his flower.
The thought of her lingers.
Humbling itself at will, he submits to her, his flower.
Mesmerized by such beauty, gentle, soothing.
He longs to be the water his flower needs to grow.
Her love

She is a Goddess held upright
In the light.
Her face shines blossoming among the clouds.
The words she speaks are of lyrical proportion.
Her body is a temple of sheer devotion,
One whom I worship. Yearning to protect.
She shines her light upon me,
Revealing the inner working of her mind.
The hieroglyphics and pamphlets deciphered by gentle lips.
Shes not just another girl nor another woman.
Her crown is woven above her brow, easily mistaken as hair.
Her influence knows no bound.
Devouring every inch of my thought.
Her voice is infinite,
Her soul dances as a child knowing the beauty of outside.
She is a Goddess of love, one of infinite wisdom.
Her sighs are one with the wind.
Spreading throughout the whispers of her voice.
Filling my dreams with the lucidity of open eyes.
I close my eyes and see her standing there.
I smile, picturing her soul dance as freely as a child knowing the beauty of being outside.
If only she knew what I saw everytime I looked at her

What I am trying to say is that
Everything else can wait.
Give beauty a chance to flourish,
A budding seed split between you and I,
Planted still in undeniable
truth.
Watching your eyes wake after a deep sleep;
Laying beside you watching your chest rise then slowly lower
Exchanging your breath for mine. Comprising who we once were, into two totally different people we never knew existed.
Pieces of me given to you and vice versa, the transfer of beating hearts echoing through still sheets.
Lifted through the self conscious thought of being aware,
This enticing sensation of
laying beside each other, hands entwined against the thought of being fulfilled. Though awake,
Bodies lay in rest, searching for one another, this fear of being lost. The constant Roaming in our sleep,the patting of empty spaces beside us.
A subspace that ventures forth as dreaming in parallel.
The inevitable change of being next to someone you truly love.
Realizing that there is something much bigger than yourself.
The world starts to fade, each revolution diminishes a bit.
No longer caring to be seen.
Slowly starting to figure that I am not as selfish as I thought.
Placing myself within your reach,
Looking to feel your hand reach for me.
Realizing that
Everything outside of this perfect moment between you and I can wait.

I wish that I was no one,
Completely obvious to who I thought I was.
Without a name to identify a single thought or emotional response.
A complete lack of empathy put into words before they are said.
A blunt show of emotion spoken without thought.
Somewhat irresponsible but nowhere near ready to admit it.
I wish that I were nothing,
Realizing the common denominator of words left upon your lips.
A lack of enthused words, vague
Nonchalant.
This perfect invitation that excites the exact moment I'd always cross your mind.
Stating that you'd have nothing to do.
Any one to see.
A thought of interest,
How good it must feel to be no one without a single thing to do.
Without limitation to the ecstasy provided to all the things we could do

What is this perpetual sensation.
This marrow that feeds bone in natural detox
cleansing at first sight through throbbing hearts.
A state of euphoric action perceived by a smile.
A spectrum of different colors, coinciding with one another.
Depicted as spiritual from one eye to the next.
Though physical it remains mental,
Transpired from one soul to the next.
Retaining the knowledge of former self,
Yearning to experience the thought of someone else.
This occurrence of two hearts beating in unison.
The honesty of something so simple,
The after thought of things transpired, constantly relived.
There isn't anything subtle about this,
It is as it is without resentment.
Without guilt.
Considering the empathy of another, likes, dislikes.
Discovering the beauty of a selfless mind.
Spotless in nature,
Honestly following the footprints of a single thought,
Imploring understanding.
No longer selfish being associated in the trust of another,
A plump fruit, blossomed flourishing from chest to chest.
the taste of each others heart
Nourishing whatever ache, whatever pain
No longer existent

I find it hilarious, being arrested in thought.
The emergence of being free.
Voluntarily considering the thought of worry.
Without need for appetite, things broken down given in ration.
This apparatus that things are well and dandy but in reality they are not.
This uncomfortable silence in a lack of distraction.
Not at all considering you an hindrance.
But there looms a sudden fear.
This compulsive habit that leads to addiction.
Standing still, blank look.
Charges brought forth in misdemeanor.
Lost in one paper stack or another.
Worried of this never ending cycle of what to do, what to think.
Devoted to this vivid image I have of you stuck in my head.
Yet, I don't know a single thing about you.
A force of habit, experiencing a part of myself that I've never quite experienced.
This need to run away from myself
And escape further into you.
The lock and key of this caged feeling.
Completely gone.
That one crack in the wall that reveals the smallest spec of sun merely peeking through.
Depending on someone else to unlock that bolted door. A sound not easily forgotten.
This senseless control that cages us up, delegated in authority without act of trust.
I find it hilarious because we are lost in identity.
you've released me yet, you have no idea who I am.
That one spec of sun that crept through a crack in the wall.
By traditional standard this is quite absurd.
Revealing to a beautiful stranger that she was in fact, the total embodiment of what's retained in the Stonehenge,  
Knowledge.

Although I've seen, I still do not know.
I could recall but at that very same moment I would become vocally lost.
Connecting to a thought in a world where things are said but randomly heard.
Questioning the matter of things experienced one at a time whether than whole.
Here lies simplicity, fundamental in it's purest form.
Fruit slices that present a good mouth feel, the total embodiment of placing something where nothing once existed. Or was thought not to.
It still invokes thought,
Reason to where, why.
In a different perspective, am I the fruit and you the mouth.
Is there truly a difference in perspective, there isn't a false pretense to either way point. Generally speaking,
discovering a new way to see something seen as natural. Invoking a sense of feel,
This longing that draws us closer to togetherness.
A practice of longing to indulge in desire.
Consistent in nature, pleasant in thought
Constantly looking for things that cannot be found,
As it already exists.
This love that manifests into something seen, or heard.
This piece of fruit couldn't begin to fit in our mouth the way it is,
It's only sensible that it's cut into pieces to digest more easily.
Here lies greed, mistaken for need.
Seeking only because it's there.
Which is you, which am I.
An basic urge displaced in misconception.
Wanting only because it's there

This is true, the stand point from which I see you.
This sense of comfort given with each smile spread cross your lips.
Things most find trivial, I find worthwhile through my eyes.
To what response can I give to assure that we were made in each others image.
Developing further into thought of self.
Myself liberated in the reflection of your eyes.
Myself detached, lost in the thought of you.
This ritual that begins with each word spoke from your lips.
Simple yet complicated as one thought splits into many.
Kind of religious in a way.
This devotional praise broken down from one day to the next.
I've kneeled to find you near,
This sense of pleasant dreams.
Following this comprehension, attempting to identify this experience.
There aren't any mistakes, at least none that I can see.
This balance of hands pressed together
Planting seeds of longevity with you in mind.
My state of mind begins and ends with the thought of you.

I loved you too seriously,
I was ultimately responsible for accepting thought for action.
This continuous wheel that constantly turns.
This longing that wants so desperately to see from your point of view,
Wanting you to see from mine.
This status quo of being calm, without the nervousness to overcome
the things we both face.
A vacation sought within both of our glares.
Escaping anything that becomes routine, this natural aroma given by the warmth of our hearts.
The true awakening of eyes. without warning.
Wanting to do without need. But generous in everything.
Seeking the spiritual rise of your soul entwined with mine, the spontaneous sun peeking through the clouds at any given time. With every touch, every moment of time that is given between us both.
This is the effect you have on me, this feeling that takes place naturally.
Actively seeking nirvana through the day to day conversations that happen at any given time.
The sort of happening that isn't planned. But is heaven truly this grand,
of all things precious, this actually happening to me.
The beating of your heart in mine. This attempt of living in the present as well as the future.
This is why I loved you too seriously.
Thinking only of the future, forgetting to step back and laugh at my self.
This immature frame of mind that instead embraces, takes for granted every other second is lost momentarily. 
Instead of touching on the laughter that comes deep within
Whether big or small. The meaning eluded with each look of your eye.
This translucent meeting that escapes into a place where nothing is forced.
Coming into an interpretation of total silence.
This chatter of hearts vibrating through a layer of skin.
It's hid carefully but at the same time seen through the slightest movement.
Needing to surrender to you, peeking through the clouds of reality.
Watching you day by day become the light of my life.
The ego appears, becoming a threat to things we know aren't true but at the same time is comprehended as something else entirely.
Attitudes and morals agree in difference. Firmly believing that one another is right, without comprise.
Being serious. Contemplating in the here after
after the moment has long passed. Wishing to place this rapture of different emotions under lock and key as love is prideful, absent minded, careful, thoughtful as well as selfish. Afraid too, as it can be seen as something different in each others eyes.
This sense of pride that hinders not just one point of view but spreads through out.
Becoming a fear that's never quite existed with such emphasis.
It's un-rational in a sense but conquers everything through conception.
This is what I mean by too serious.
Instead of light hearted laughter
It wasn't reassured, I expected you to automatically know that the universe was held tight in your hands. The thought of my world.
The focal point of eyes in deep need.
They reveal all that needs to be said.
An explosion that grows unstable, moments we've fallen in love with time after time.
This vibration that spreads into two beings.
The birth of separate thoughts that cling from one mind to the next.
Two separate people having the same thought at the same time.
This ideology which rationalizes each and every thought that I have of you.
At times I believe without a shadow of a doubt that you know.
But at times I'd like you to know
That it is reassured by the sound of my voice.
But is lost in the echo of your voice.
This vibration that longs to be close to you

Though my appetite is full
I still hunger, though not in the hopes of not becoming
a gluten,
Though your time is all I could ask.
I still find myself selfish, learning to preserve this taste.
For your attention.
A meaningful conversation that reveals all, spoken or non spoken.
Not at all stating that I would find my fill else where.
This craving that exists even while your near.
Often times I find restraint in thought, allowing you to be yourself
not cluttered every moment of the day.
More so it's the emphases I express in times of deep need.
This hunger that wallows within longing to be fed.
I am capable of this manifestation of thought.
But without you, I am simply lost in hunger.
Hoping you'd empathize

Over by the lake in thought, I sat and I  pondered.
Wondering of a love that would wash my sins away.
To be made a new in such a drenching sensation.
To be bathed in the ways of a beating heart.
With every smile, every word spoken.
I feel that she's near, Over by the lake in thought.
I would give anything to confess such profession.
My body; a nibble of bread in her everlasting thought.
Baptized in the blink of her eye.
Should the wells of her eyes ever dry I'd refill them with whatever tear I can provide.
To what tide do I offer such communion.
To find myself awaken in her eyes.
Every smile that flourishes across her face.
To imagine heaven with every step that she takes. The way the sun caresses her face,
Would this be considered blasphemy,
Becoming one with every breath that escapes her chest, caught by my lips.
This euphoric happening of any time, any place.
This mental elation, elevated with each throb of her heart.
I sit and I ponder,
Would she believe such testimonial.
The fear of an dream ending too soon.
Struggling to go to sleep and place myself where I saw her last.
With words unspoken
The total embodiment of total surender