your words, they sound
like rushing drums;
eccentric blood
that rings and hums.

your words, they feel
like feather beds.
a snowflake's kiss
upon our heads.

your words, they look
like morning dew
reflecting soft,
viridian hues.

your words, they taste
of clarity;
peculiar spice
of rarity.

your words, they smell
of night sea breeze,
and everything
that brings me ease.

your words, i keep
them close to me,

but you: a faded
memory.

my page was too white
my ink was too thin
and i could not write
what my thoughts pencilled in;

slowly i sank
as the page remained blank
and the night turned to day
as i turned old and grey;

yet the pages remained hollow
and it filled me with sorrow;

but if there's one thing i could follow:
it's pain today and regret

tomorrow