how does one love a poet?
between the lines of their spoken words
and their haiku's.
a jumbled nonsense to an untrained ear
but a masterpiece
to the ones who take your poems
the ones they've studied
and they dissected
because they find them*  almost
as beautiful
as the way your soul shines
when you coin a poem
about the one who
coins their poems
about you.

*the delicate intertwining process of loving a poet.

One day I fell
Tears full of dread
I was all alone
In my white padded home
There, I cried the days away
You heard my darkened cries
And you did something in turn
You knocked and walked right in
Straight through the dark
Walked through shards
Of broken glass
Just to find the source
Of this dark time
You opened my door
My back was turned to you
You did not care
You crept behind me
Wrapped your wings
Around my cold sides
And told me to let it out
You stroked my head
And shattered the rusty chains
You carried me outside
Took me to your sunny home
Where there my strength grew and grew
'Till I was shining too
You planted a velvet kiss
On  my rosy lips
Gently grasped my hand
We left to live
We had a dream
That did come true
The bells to an fro
Our smiles bright and loved
By all who saw
Me in a suit of grey
Walking beside a girl
Who wore a black dress
And remained a noblesse
Through the darkened days
'Till we grew old
Then you fell
In my arms
I cried again
You raised your soft hand
Placed it on my cheek
Wiped away my fears
You whispered
"Don't ever stop living
For I shall be with you
Always and forevermore"
With her last breathe she passed away
Buried in her black dress
I love her to this day
I won't fall again
Because what I promised her
I keep my tears
Locked in my heart
I remember her smile
That beautiful crescent moon
I know her hair
Short and hazeled
And I know her eyes
The stars of the sky
And I remember this
'Till I drift away
But never fear
'Cuz I know this to be true
She will locate me
And I shall locate her
And we shall live after death
Bringing joys, not regrets
'Till the end of time