There is a silent poem
Being written
Constantly

It's a story
A beautiful story
One of pain
Joy
Peace
Love
Beauty
And so much more

There are no words
None are needed

It's in every broken heart
And hopeless tear

It whispers from the trees
And through the gentle swish of grass

It resides in the twinkling stars
And bright silver moon

It's in every child's laugh
And every baby's cry

It runs in every drop of rain
And shines through every lightning strike

It has no words
But if you listen carefully
Maybe
Just maybe
You will hear the silent poem
Of the universe

If most
Is is the highest
Above all
Greater than anything else

Then how is more
Above the thing before it
One step ahead
It's on top too

Is most
The greatest,
Or is more
Greater than most
Making it the greatest?

And then there's the same problem with
Great and greatest....

I am constantly falling in love with strangers.
With words written in notebooks stashed away and forgotten about.
With the way the light hits the trees in the morning as the sun rises, the way the sky is light pink and orange before blue.
I fall in love with curves of lips as boys talk to girls on the streets.
With the way people walk, as if gliding over linoleum in the oddly bright supermarket.
With hands that gesticulate as tongues, mouths, and brains tell stories too wildly unimaginable for the layfolk.
But I will not let myself fall in love with you.

I'm so sorry for that.

I'd give you a three leaf clover
Yes, that's three not four
Each leaf has meaning
The first is faith
The second is hope
The third is love
And the fourth is luck

But if I have you
I don't need luck
I only need three
I only need love

I'd give you a three leaf clover
Yes that's three
Not four

Nobody loves
Her the way I do

Nobody
Loves me

Nobody
To love

Nobody
Loves