Your words are a sight to behold-
You can inside-me and outside-me
With one simple line

You are a prophet and scholar I see
Words scratched on every surface
Splashing the lifeblood of an inkwell
On the face of fate

Your arms are covered in poetry
Up and down written
Back and forth
Letters roll from your tongue
Squeezing the throat of my inner silence
Taking hostage my thoughts
Pushing and proddding them

I feel as if you are a thousand years old-
And I am just a boy
A curious child searching for meaning in the blue
You let me poke and **** at your words
Picking up a book
Just to read your first page
And lay it aside
Reaching for another

I am not your equal in the least
I know my place as a student of fate
I am your humble servant-
(Although I wrestle constantly  with
Human affections)

How can I be at blame?
You have eyes- full of ancient and knowing light
Your hair is more compelling than an English garden
Full of blooms
Silken strands of summer rays
Cast my heart into shadow
I revel in the shade of your haunting depths
Picking blooms of Nightshade and Oleander
In the mist of your presence
The dew chills me to the bone
In the wake of your departure

I am ****** to a life
Wrapped in your absence
It is so cold in my heart
For the prison of mountains
Will keep you from me

I can only hope that one day
When my body is buried
Roots will curl and swallow me
Crushing the spirit from my bones
So I may wander over the mountains
And watch you rest your legs
As you wait for Aurora's morning kiss