In most silences there is a hint of regret
One not easily overcome.
The awkward silence of not knowing what to say.
The fear of rambling about nothing as most times
It's better to remain silent.
The after thought of finally finding the perfect thing to say,
Always after the moment has passed.
Random references, awkward stares.
I hate mental blocks.
Especially when it comes to someone that you've been thinking about all day.
Of all things in the world why is it hard to find that one perfect thing that won't
Succumb to the peer pressure of finally arriving at the moment when thought becomes
Action.
That one thing that won't make you appear completely insane to a complete stranger

Of all the colors in the world
There isn't just one that perfectly describes you,
A coloring book filled with all kinds of scribbles
and vibrant hues.
Tracing each line with the zest of reassurance.
A splash of purple and brown to highlight the horizon of your eyes.
A budding violet blooming in the wind
With specs of pink and blue between your fingers
An love affair begun with the touch of eyes.
Imagining our bodies drenched in red then double dipped in brown.
Curiously empathizing with pink hearts without the weight of heavy burden
The beauty of coloring outside the lines without hesitation.
In a kaleidoscope lost in an ocean of dark colored hair,
An mosaic colored in bright yellow, blue, green and brown.
Laid flat against white paper expanding in color, devouring each line of insecurity. An kiss over orange eye lids in a flash of white.
Bright stained eyes that sigh each moment that passes.
Tasted in the fountain of lips
Strawberry kiwi, Banana berry and rocky road
Shut flowers, soon to open; flourishing at your very thought.
Delicate with their touch
They Flicker then flash with the quiver of open lips.
Inhaling each breath that spreads against your neck

My heart took deep seat.
Relaxing in the comfort of plush cushion.
Neck twisted, head tucked comfortably in the nook of the chair.
A glass of water sitting on the edge of the coffee table next to the remote control.
T.V Turned low, movie charterers playing reverse roles.
Not every day does it have a chance to relax the way it does.
Rarely finding time to take a day off.
Legs dangling from the plush chair brought on sale.
My hearts face covered in the glow shone from the T.V.
Long stretched wrinkles finally at ease. Slumped over in the ease of relaxed eyebrows.
There my heart sits in comfort.
Dishes washed. Trash taken out.
Waiting for his wife to slide the key in the door.
After a long day's work

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

You and I are just like the moon
Quiet,
waiting for the world to fall asleep.
Regardless of distance,
we just are.

Anticipation makes everything seem that much further,
especially the ache of things we cannot name.
Things that we cannot control.
As close as it seems,
space lengthens while we're awake.

Maybe that's why we surround ourselves with dark things
so that when we open our eyes,
we can think of a name
for how much we miss each other,
Other than silence.
Something that fills the space
While we think

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

A woman walked past
A heart beats within

You are a Goddess, held upright
With hands that warm the soul and a voice that soothes.
Like water you take any form. Spreading in a dream that falls like drops of reign.
You are a Goddess, in the form of milk and honey.
Is it any wonder why bees love you as much as they do.
Something so rare, so precious.
Almost extinct.  

Spreading in a dream that falls like drops of reign.
Brown sugar, a hint of spice.
A natural remedy that heals the ache of those in need.
Goddess do you truly know how precious, how rare you truly are.

Goddess I look to the moon every night.
Hoping to catch a glimpse of your eyes.
The tranquil gift that looms its gift of comfort.
Your voice
soothing, soft.
The wind that caresses the rounds of my face.

With natural curls of your wavy hair
The stars couldn't compare
Nor the current of the strongest ocean.
Try as they might, they could never compare.
How they must envy the depth of your crown.

Goddess do you truly know how precious you are,
The cure to every aliment, every ache.
Every pain

Do not ever let anyone tell you otherwise.
Do not ever let anyone steal your joy.
For you are a Goddess held upright in the light of the Sun

With pure intention.
I longed to prove more than what became ideal.
Insecurity can come from a variety of sorts.
Communication through action, not only words.
The value of times essence.
Counting the moments it takes to come to the realization,
I too was afflicted.
To appreciate a woman such as her.
Not to impose on exposed thighs.
A factious affair that could only enforce what was felt mentally.
Only in mental.
Still we became vulnerable to the emotions that followed.
I appreciated her in full.
In part to generosity.
Her stare,  the way she'd vocalize to the rhythm of her heart.
I emptied my time when I had none to give.
Creating a revolving door of emotion,
In due time it was never enough.
In part I tried to stop. Finding myself too far gone.
She too pointed in blame.
Everything that felt so right became wrong.
My face no longer my own.
But one of her past.
I shared fault in every reaction that wasn't my own.
I'd sit and wander my thoughts.
Everything she said I'd do, I'd never done.
A shadow loomed, knowing only to spread.
Finding it's way past the light of heart.
Soon the very words we stood upon filled with cracks.
I too, afflicted by everything other than myself. Than her.
Than we.
Just as the very first step felt the hardest.
The last one was even harder.
Not realizing who we were any longer, the trips to and from were never the same.
Both lost in the tide of emotion.
In the hopes of not becoming totally lost.
I watched her give herself to another.
to feel the same way about another, to go above and beyond for another.
To again become afflicted, as his face later became one from her past.

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.

Your lips are like home.
A place (always) with me,
No matter how far away.
When I kiss you.
I am to be found nowhere else.
Except what I've thought all day.

A place of warmth.
A place of comfort.
Your lips.
Where all of my favorite memories can be found.
Stretched out.
Your breath the clothes I slide in and out.
Your lips the only place that matters.
Your lips more that confirms that home is not a place.

A kiss that welcomes me with open affection.
All of my favorite things.
Soon to return.
Again & again

Today is built on chance.
The ideal of a better tomorrow.
And still I love you.


Though every day can't be as perfect as the last.
It's made perfect for all the little things you do.
And still I love you.


The foundation of tomorrow begins with today.
And if blessed with longevity.
I'll still faithfully love you.


Although there will be times when I press your last button.
And other times when you can't stand the sight of me.
You should always be convinced, that I love you.

 
It's not because my heart doesn't have a brain.
Or the fact your face is so beautifully complexed.
In truth my heart shouldn't always need a reason to recognize it's
living, breathing representation.

 

Even if your mad a time or two.
Your still the reason life tastes so great.
And I'll still faithfully love you

I am often intimidated by certain thoughts.
Whether or not I am to think the things I think.


Over by the nightstand where dust gathers against the shade.
It's been months since I opened my blinds.
Rather yet pretend that you'd still remember the last time it snowed.


The things said we never thought we needed to hear.
The truth over thought, gathered into a mound of snow.
With pieces of you, pieces of me.
We built a snowman.


Each time it snows I find myself more convinced.
That we covered up more of ourselves than we thought.
Becoming more, and more.
People that we'd never truly know.


Every time that it snows.
I find that there is no comparison to the frost bite that you left behind.

In reply to the promise; you'd never leave.

The things said we never thought we needed to hear.

Turned away in difference of opinion.

After everything has melted

To love you comes as an unconditional force that I cannot explain.
You touch all the parts of me that I myself cannot see.
They look to you as you make them that much better.
I love you in the full extent of every chance I get.
And every single chance after that.
There is no such excuse as to why I cannot.
We converse through action more than lips.
Make no mistake in the way that I use these words or the way my body reminds you.
I love to color you in not just the ways that I see you.
But in all the ways you see yourself.
To teach, encourage, praise and inspire in all the ways of color.
For without you this emotion that dictates life or death would have no reason to exist.
To respect your existence with every smile.
To reach out and grab your hand reminding you that you are needed.
You inspire me as unconditionally as I inspire you.
This thing, love
Blossoms in deep shades of red
Outside the boundaries of lines

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

The wind did come.
The clouds like sails, soft on a mild day.
There was no rain.
Onward the clouds sailed.
Thick, to and fro.
The sun upright peeked through.
Slant beams.
The clouds like sails drooped.
Sagging in the distance.
Parting ways they swam.
Creating shapes, more soft ridges.
The clouds men.
Ever more to rejoice.
The birds like currents.
The bluest of oceans.
Below I gaze, light in heart
Watching them sail on

I wrote a letter with an tremendous amount of emotion
Going back constituting the top of I's with little tiny hearts
Throughly proof reading the lighthearted gesture
Don't take to serious the tone I used
Consider it
A philosophy of the heart
It's intense ego
To get this point across
Though outrageously verbal
Choosing to live for now, contrasting to the future of reply
Tucked in an envelope
Optimistic in it's view of being open
A chronicle of sorts, envelope following envelope
An incarnation of my heart being sent in letter form
Count each word as a single throb of thought
practical words coming from a mouth that cannot speak
Only moral that I would send it's words in practical selfishness
This need wrote in ink
A sort of food that longs for the companionship of purpose
A need to speak and be heard
A need of touch, to feel this effort that somethings happening
An extension to the abstract heart that throbs in latitude
the height of it's dreams
So forth sealed in darkness
Awaiting the conference of your eye

I want a love of that seen on
TV shows and romantic comedies
Without the overdrawn scripts
Or interruption of subliminal commercials that go on and on
A love filled with the visit of random outburst
An award winning Assemble
Which displays overcoming harsh realities
Crazed neighbors that have no idea when to go home
barging in making themselves at home.
Morals and manner
The latter of spontaneity without control of volition
The latest trend of comebacks played prime time Every Thursday
Late night reruns that bring a smile to your face
Not just when there's nothing else on TV
I want a love of that seen on
TV shows and romantic comedies
Without the anxiety of overdrawn scripts

An emotional attachment premiered during every episode

The ego that accompanies relationships 

The ups and downs
Beautifully understanding,

Introducing ourselves to a deeper notion 
The beautiful curvature your mouth makes during improvised motion.
Typically I never found myself that goofy
Except when it's was funny

Identifying with whats felt inside
The serious situations that occur and end all in the same hour,
A simple template in the whelm of a moment

Cast with the kiss of the rolling credits
Best understood by the various themes played at the beginning and end,
Eliminating the distance of alone time spent while the cameras are off

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

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

If the world were ending tonight
You'd still make time for me
wouldn't you?
Even if it were all in your head


If the world were ending tonight
you'd still give me the same smile
you always give, right?


No matter the crumbling buildings
& people playing hop scotch
Avoiding the large craters in the earth.

You'd still make time just before
the final impact,
Before we're wiped into oblivion, right?
 
On top of crumbling cars
& huge chunks of rock.
Even if it were all in your head,
would you still come over & make believe
that everything is alright?

If the world were ending tonight,
would there still be time
to go some place nice,
Even if it were all in your head

In a way this sort of feels like school.
One moment we're curiously writing and passing notes to each other.
The next we're caught and sent off to detention.
I never knew which box you checked.
Yes.
No.
Maybe kinda sort of.

There's a lesson to be learned from all of this.
Which one I am really not sure.
I wasn't paying attention.
Instead of studying.
Here I am writing another note.
It never really occurred to me.
That while the teacher is teaching.
Filling us with what passes the time.
Life happens behind his back.

The context of how competitive everything is.
In retrospect.
What did you get for number 2.
A.
B.
Or C

Which answer dictates how fast he turns around.
One day soon we'll both know

There they sat on the park bench.
Both of their legs draped across the same knee.
Their shoulders were at ease, laid back against the bend.
They've sat for hours, the few people whom come and gone.
With shoes made for comfort, their heel felt the breeze.
Faces stretched in laughter, deep wrinkles found their shirt.
His arm napped around her, cheeks held up high.
She looked up ever so slightly nudging him with her elbow.
Time flew by, another afternoon spent in the park.

 

They looked straight ahead.
Orange leaves fell from the tree, she leaned closer to him.

Time walked right on by

You visit often
A storm visible in the distance.
Your presence made,
Striking my heart.
Finding me where I go.
Your trial easily found.
Stirring anticipation.
My fear,
My inspiration lit across the sky.
Bringing out the best in me.
The shadows lit by your presence.
Thunder echoes.
Scattered a million and one times
Filling the gaps of silence.
The gaps where my voice aches & you are nowhere to be found.
The gaps where my heart throbs & yours begins.
I am in love enjoying the storm.
You come closer
My ache no longer visible.
The leaves shutter
Blown away by your kiss.
Passionate yet deep.
You strike.
Finding me in the crackle of thought.
The best of me flashing across the sky
Piercing my heart without warning.
Without cease
The way you love.
The way you seek & I find.
Struck by the lightning that is you

Whenever I think of you
I runaway with you in thought; the grasp of your hand, the throb of hearts echoing through the veins of our necks.
No matter How far; how fast we run.
There is nothing before us but space.
I've run for miles with you in my hand.
Pockets empty of everything else.
Keys, wallet. No annoyance of a buzzing phone.
Just you and I in search of the end of the rainbow, the things we've always dreamt.
When I think of you I often wonder in those moments if I cross your mind at the same exact time.
Just sitting wondering what the other is doing.
No matter how far the mirror rests
A reflection is still cast.
The reflection of far away eyes
Taking a moment to look beside themselves and magnify the others pupil.
Taking a moment to rest as nothing is promised.
Taking a moment to forever memorize
The expression across your face.
If I indeed satisfy you the way I dream I do.
The ease of eyes relaxing falling asleep to the thought of you.
No matter how far I run, I still want to run further.
Its so easy to say nothing else matters
As the rainbow is ever changing.
Leaning from one direction to the next.
The ever changing throb of our heart
Whether we run fast or run slow we both run.
Day turns to night then back to day
Expanding upon the length of promise.
Longevity in each drop of rain that pours beneath the sunset of lowering eyes.
Relaxing, falling asleep to the thought of you.
Running across each and every vibrant hue the rainbow has to offer.
Holding you by the hand lost in thought.
An instantaneous combustion of an heart filled with joy.
Humbled in the thought of you.
Without lack of depth as these colors seem transparent from a far
Without such speech to fully understand what's being said.
The feel of your footprint left on my soul of all the many places you've stepped.
A gospel sung with each and every look from your eye.
Though soundless. Their words are heard loud and clear.
A lullaby that grants comfort, a peace of mind that only the soul could uphold as enlightened.

Come not so much on the nights
when you are alone, or your mind is filled with grief.
The nights when the stars are the hardest to see.
Tucked beneath a blanket of clouds.
Of all the streets, one way streets are often the loneliest.
These are the times where we recognize ourselves the most.
And like the stars I tuck you in my arms.
Soft & nestled.
It's more times that exist outside of these moments.
Come also when you are free & every star can be seen.
Genuine in the way the moon shines.
Your face.
Never to flee in search of where to shine next.
The smoothness of your skin.
These bright moments that fill the sky.
Your voice the only thing that lulls the storm to rest.
Your curves being the constellation I long to see.
On the nights when your mind is at ease and there isn't a care in the world.
Learning wisdom in the moments of silence.

And it's moments like this
I'd wrap my arms around you.
You'd disappear, head against my chest.
A thousand pieces coming together.
Our eyes closed, curled together in each other's arms.
Each moment prolonged.
Held tight.
Your body against mine.
An eternity in my arms.
Total control of our philosophies.
Unconditional.
Adored.
Suddenly you'd disappear.
Not an ounce of weight could be felt.
Sometimes opening my eyes.
Finding you nice and nestled
Between the width of my shoulders

Her hello was fragrantly sprayed beneath her chin,
Circling the front of her neck.
A collarless shirt covered in a variation of Dior, or bombshell.
A candle lingering the sweet aroma of blue and orange.
A beautiful stranger I could meet over and over again.
Hello.
My hand surrounding the caress of her fingers.
Covered in warmth
Again, Sincerely, hello.
She smiled a bit.
A Scattered flower spread a part of herself
Given freely. Fully awake staring,
Watching her hello say farewell to the bottom of her lip
The stem of such melody, seeing myself where her collar would go.

The nape of her neck,
Wrapping myself in a blossoming bud.
Meeting her halfway.
Hello
Hoping to meet you again ; The lovely fragrance of her hello

Does that make it unjust.
That I not share every detail that bursts open inside me.
Every time I hear your name.
Every time that I think about you.
I admit that it comes as unjust.
That it's an unhealthy habit as eventually it has nowhere else to go.
But instead to suffocate everything that it touches.
These butterflies that I keep locked up.
This love that I keep inside.
It fills up inside of me and I fear that if I speak
Everything will ooze on out.
And these butterflies will fly away with no intention of coming back.
The original packaging will have no other use.
But to sit and wait to be filled again.
Unjustly sitting idle with nothing to be filled.
Does that truly make it unjust.
That the most beautiful things are mostly kept hidden in fear.
But before you speak.
What seems as unjust and upright obnoxious is in fact a means to grow.
To flourish into one of the most beautiful things yet spoken.
That what comes off as fear, as a sudden means to withdraw myself
Actually serves as a means to love you deeper than perhaps
what our current environment would allow.
To keep these things that no one else would never know.
And share them with you when the time is right.
In truth you are the most beautiful thing thats perhaps kept me in check.
That without you I would further have no reason to acknowledge
These butterflies that I keep locked away.
Because the most beautiful things in life are destroyed by which
Are not understood.

And there began our oral history.
Removed from text, living and breathing.
Passed back and forth between lips.
I myself a promise, her oath.
The anxious lump that hesitates in the back of the throat.
The inner most of courage exchanged in deep sigh.
Finding it impossible to hold on to my own words.
I hold on to hers, and it is within this freedom am I truly free.
Without confines to anything, other than ourself.
That we find influence from events current and past. 
Well dressed in each others lips.
We both fold the page.
In exception to our next breath

Some colors outlast others, a variety of crayons sold in large quantity.
Pressed hard, printed on loose leaf paper.
These precious memories.
Molded down, broken. Chipped off in delicious assortment.
Sold by individual wrapper, journeying in delight, mixed with one another.
The beginning of the day finding it's way into night.
A constant surprise, lending a hand to someone else. A fruit shared in generosity.
Sliced whole, seen in vivid color. Modest in the way they meet.
Inquiring God's imagination, finding discipline. Joining each other in unity.
What derives is something greater, highlighting each others attribute.
Conducting themselves in a sense of yoga, traveling in one another's path.
Granting comfort, selfless in how they give. Guiding themselves in meditation.
Casting fear into the wind. A bland expectation. Sitting there without a thing to do.
Post it notes cut into the shape of bananas, a spark of imagination in the hands of a child. Thought to make the work space a bit more lively.
Pictures of friends, family, girlfriends, wives.
There are plenty of ways to create any one color, set in preference to highlight the things that make us smile most.
The fruit of life's harvest.
Presented as one specific color we take for granted.
The variation it takes to make the hue we love the most.
Crayons losing the sharpness of their head, painting the portrait of each moment that passes.
Framed behind glass

At last, the truth came out.
I was an accessory to her outfit.
The many plastic bands that dangle against her wrist.
She was into fashion.
The appearance of how things look.
She placed more above me.
The beginning.
Lost in the reflection they'd give.
This false perception of how she'd feel inside.
She'd sit and fidget.
Checking her reflection on the screen of her phone.
Unable to differentiate who was who.
Another attachment left to sit on the dresser.
Laced in things to compensate what's missing.
The face of her phone cracked

In ultimate reference.
I am not sure of the source.
With great modesty out the window.
I am a great believer and hold this to be true.
All things in heart are true.
A curious emotion.
Passionate in photography.

The literature of perfect emotion.

The exact existence of perfected mess. 

I imagine the most beautiful sight.

Cinematic in nature.

The things that appear exactly how they are.

Existing because our belief is they do.

In truth we are fragile.

Oblivious to the chaos that moves scene by scene.

We are in love pretending not to see how beautiful the mess we create.

How completely compulsive we are.

Ignoring that we've lost control,

Sooner or later,

We notice it's manifestation.

And I can see how beautiful you are.

In perfect justice,

I am mindful that I want to strip you down

There’s a girl I know on Mars
Who wears tube socks
With everything she wears,
No matter if they’re stretched out or not.
There, the wind barely blows,
It barely even whistles.
But she doesn’t like her feet
To get cold.

Every time we talk,
We talk about everything
And nothing.
She sits at home and watches
The stars from her window,
Swinging one of her legs
From the arm of the couch.

I told her that I’d mail her a new
Pair of socks if I could find
A pair with Mars on them,
And a pair that had the moon
Printed on them.
Especially that far out, I bet they’re
Hard to find.

Maybe I’d settle for a pair myself,
To see what she sees in these things,
After all, she always wears them.
Maybe I’ll get her a pair that stretches
To her knees,
A solid color to match her couch,
To hide the red dirt that creeps
In her house.

After all, we’re human.
We need something that connects us
To who we are, who we used to be.
Anything to make us feel
More important than what we are

The ground shook beneath us,
Running beside the horse in her heart.
My feet, her hooves pressed deep
In her orifice.
Panting, our arms free in the wind,
Her eyes wild to those who try to tame her.
My stomach burns from the ache
Of trying to keep up.
I haven’t run this long or this hard
Since I was little.
No matter what I did,
She was always in front of me.
If I laughed, she’d neigh and bite the air.
Even if I was able to pass her,
It wasn’t long before she got back
In front of me.
Every part of me hurts, but all I can do
Is laugh, trying to keep up.
After a while, I fell out,
Sprawled out, catching my breath.
Soon, she walked over and laid down beside me
And licked my face.

Life’s too short to worry about
The bruises that travel up your legs.
It’s rare that you meet people
Who make you burn like this
The kind of love that pounds
And gallops.
She had a horse in her heart,
Wild and made of fire.
She didn’t want to escape,
Just needed a friend

When I feel you breath into me.
I am high.
I feel like a balloon.
Surrendered by belief.
This is the highest that I'll ever get.
To taste your freedom.
To breathe in it. To bask in it.
With each breath given, I hold on tighter in fear that
at any moment things could change.
That any moment may be my last.
Your kiss further confirms.
This bubble of joy that comes alive every time that you are around.
You blew life into me.
Teaching me the meaning of change.
A change I have yet learn.
Things that I have neglected myself.
I have lost the feeling of standing on the ground.
It is yours and yours alone, this breath I give back to you

When I first met you
I didn't know for sure but
I felt that your lips were the door
to a new home.

I loved the way you said hey,
There was something so comforting
about how you said it.
The way I immediately felt at ease.
My feet planted towards yours.
My knocks on the door waiting to be
answered.
My eyes neighboring yours
through the window of your eyes.
I didn't know for sure but I felt that you
were home.
Home in the sense of being close to
you.
Home in the sense of your lips
being the welcome mat
that introduces me to your smile.
home in the sense of being close
to you.
home in the sense of where ever I go you are there.

My eyes no longer neighboring yours.
But instead learning to see the world
through your eyes

There is a sense of forever that's hidden in your eyes.
A sense that no matter how much time will pass.
A promise that no matter how random the thought.
That somehow, you will always be there.
That same funny laugh, that devious smirk that lets me know
that your about to do something silly.
No matter how much time shall pass.
It will always be there to take my mind off of what ever is going on.

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.

I don't want to leave you,
But in order to better myself I'm afraid I have to.
Mama told me that it'll be days like this.
Daddy told me to learn from everyone you meet.
Shirt now folded, tucked in a bag beneath the bus.
To much disdain, I have to leave now.
Here on the open road traveling down every thought.
A window seat to the world. Open and vast.                                             First person view.
A introvert paused next to a bag lady whom resembles the woman I found in you.
Not too much to say.
Revisiting these old roads etched in my mind.
The thing about memorization.
You always seem to go back when least expected.
Another birth control pill. A baby trying to survive abortion.
A layered bowl of chili in a old diner across the street of an old country town.
High rise wires always seem the same either direction you go

And some day you'll realize
That there too is a point of no return.
A point where you'll someday come
And looking back will be a thing of the past.
There are no layaways no payments plans
To genuinely be a blessing in someone else's life.
These things can't be repaid.
Can't be debated.
These gifts of appreciation.
Life is one of the most unexplained mysteries.
In a world of simplicity.
We often shy away from the things we know will break us.
Not knowing that its the vulnerability that truly makes us beautiful.
At times we get uncomfortable.
Considering that the simplest thing is often the hardest thing.
And some day you'll realize.
That it's these precious moments.
That bring us closer to that point of no return.
Your reflection shown.
The candle of someone else's eye.
No longer afraid to look back

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

I found your love in a song
I've heard before.
I listened to it often,
Wondering why it was a familiar
Feeling.
Finding your face while misplacing my headphones.
Finding your love in a song
Previously heard.

I found your love in a song
I used to love.
I listened to it day in & out.
Not really paying attention to the words
But found myself
Mouthing the words.
Listening to the beat.

Before I saw your face
I knew this feeling in a song.
A song previously heard before
It became popular.
It meant something back then,
Before it could be found any where.
This special feeling that can't be described as anything other than love.

Before I saw you walk
I'd plug my headphones in
And share a moment just between us two.
This familiar feeling

before I saw your face.
Before I misplaced my headphones.

I found your love in a song
I've heard before.
A song i continuously listened to before it became popular.
I listened to it often,
Wondering why it was a familiar
Feeling.
Until I saw your face.
It meant something back then.
Before this song could steal my love

Each morning she welcomes me into her world.
The best part about it.
I am always glad I came, watching her pat her hand on a reserved spot inviting me to sit beside her.
A motivation for tired legs,
Our eyes resting after a light jog, over by the park bench.
Slowly watching our faith in each other raise from behind the clouds.
In due time I am drenched in the way that she makes me feel.
Even when we go our separate ways she is always there

Her body was a city.
Filled with folk who spoke with their hands.
Nothing was ugly. The way that they vocalized.
She lived in the street, watching every little thing come alive.
Her body was a city where most times we sat in the car.
With no idea where we were going.
Most of the time just sitting there with the music playing.
I loved going places with her, most times just sitting still.
There wasn't just one landmark that stood out. Often time loosing sense of direction.
*** heard through the ears of a leaky car and rattling tailpipe.
Her body had a culture of it's own.
Moet' shaped frame, cigar paper still wove tight. Still in the package. 
Rich in the sound that came alive soon as her eyes closed. The same color of her car.
Each little thing contributed to the support of how she dreamed with her eyes open.
The folk whom spoke with their hands. lost in a multitude of conversation.
Everything came  to life with each passing glance.
A few folks walking pass, the corner store still lit.

Sitting in a still car, promoting live art.
The little orange wrench popping up on the dashboard motioning perspective.
Often a soloist, she'd let me visit by the hum of buzzing lights.

Wooden street poles, medium sized plastic aluminum and glass.
We sat under the street light in a mid sized sedan without need for seat belts.
Rich in the sound that came alive soon as her eyes closed.
I myself became a resident.
Following the songs she'd play. 
I'd listen intently often forgetting everything she just said.

The contact of screen to phone. The back drop of  lights ringing in silence.

Volume cut low, Most of the time just sitting there with the music playing.
Everything just seemed to disappear in the percussion her body would make.

The swift motion her hips would make,
The songs she'd mouth to herself.
I wasn't completely hopeless.
Just in love with the blues

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.

When I made it to work,
I thought about you
getting through the day,
pushing time forward
until it was finally time to go.
I had no idea what I wanted to eat
until the thought of splitting you open,
watching you sit in the depth of my fork,
did it for me.
A scoop of fried rice,
mixed with gravy
there is something so satisfying
about that first bite,
about savoring the moment,
readying the next forkful.
There’s nothing wrong
with wanting something
that wants you back.

If I spill any part of you
on my clothes,
on my hand,
on the table
I still want you.
I will still have you.

There’s nothing wrong
with burgers, burritos,
or any of the other places I pass.
But in this very moment,
the way these eggs, bean sprouts,
and green onions wrap around my tongue
nothing else compares.
Pressing my fork into your crisp edges,
watching the steam rise
I, um,
should’ve ordered extra

Truth be told
We walk pass each other without a single word.
Stubborn to the presence of each other.
Yet we look with secrecy, afraid to be noticed.
Terrified of becoming strangers.
Unknowingly judged by thought itself.
The grief of lips unspoken. The sudden appearance of a familiar feeling.
Afraid to speak, the sudden urge of hey.
Today but one of a million.
Disguised as a single moment
We but two people lost in the same moment.
Yet nothing is familiar.
The distance between us grows.
Truth be told
I miss you and can never tell you
While today is but one of a million more
That I moved my mouth
But nothing came out
Normally, it's easier to open up to strangers

Believe that around every corner lies a blessing in wait.
Believe that with each and every waking second that there is something to be uncovered.
Believe in your dreams, whether your wide awake or lying there in deep sleep.
Trust that there is nothing that can hold you back.
No matter what spirit, what circumstance that arises.
Your spirit vibrates at a high frequency. With the know how and ability to overcome adversity.
Though patience is labeled a virtue and the label reads as is.
It's one of the greatest gifts that goes misunderstood along with time.
If read long enough perception changes. 
The things that we may have overlooked, or come to us at a random moment that brings clarity to things otherwise we take for granted.
Sometimes it takes going on a long walk or just taking a moment to yourself.
Believe that the answer to everything you seek lies deep inside of you.
For peace of mind is Divine, and sometimes hard to obtain.
The things that constantly add up, watching our hands overfill without knowing what to do with the pieces thats already been given to us.
Whether it's a job, the people we face on a day to day basis or life in general.
It is at these very moments that we feel our way through, rather than rely on thought alone.
The world is built on a catalog of ideas.
Why not reach deeper into yourself and expound upon your very on catalog,
As this life thing only comes around once.
People will be people, things will always remain things,
But memories.
Memories always stand the test of time.
If something doesn't feel right, search your spirit.
There you'll find an abundance of knowledge in a deep well.
Always believe in yourself, always find that light that pushes you that extra mile.
Always believe that through any circumstance.
You have the power to change and manifest to life what ever you dream

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