Of the sweetest notion I was once a mere boy

swayed by her gilded tresses.

endued with hope.

smitten.

with her magnanimous nature.

As a story yet untold

she was the eponymous visage of my sudden romance.

A nondescript dialogue written from conversant means.

It is not fear nor contempt of reason that has driven us apart my love

for I am alone but of unwitting circumstances.

She has such a pretty mouth for such a bitter girl.

She doesn't need any makeup or anything of that sort.

I love her too much to say so however for fear of objectification.

But it's not a question of 'if' or 'why' because the possibilities could be endless.

With a kiss so ****** those abstained words fumble out of her mouth 'as if' there needed to be a reason behind this at all.

I wrote endlessly but in place of these adverbs and subjective pronouns I leave an empty line for you to

place that significance that I can't hold onto.

I wrote this song for you to hear but the chorus never repeats.

I wrote this post for you to see that my words askew your self perceptions.

I wrote a poem for you that had no title, no rhyme, no meter, but in place I leave behind everything that you were to me.

I have braved

the tempestuous sea

in fortuitous grandeur

of her beauty.

I have wistfully traversed

the arid desert

in libidinous yearning

of her kiss.

I'm the seedless pumpkin you left out on the front porch in the cold morning sun to rot simply because you had completely forgotten about me at the end of October.

All I want is for you to love me as a child only knows how to.

All I want is for you to carve me inside and out.

To make me feel at the least bit beautiful for just this instant so I won't be entirely misplaced in your affection.

All I want is for to hold me in your tired arms when reasoning gives way to those interminable doubts.

If only I had just that one particular chance of a lifetime I'd carve your pretty eyes out to make them hollow just like mine.

Her frame accentuates a state of grace without the idiosyncrasy of a modern day woman.

The curve of her hips reminds me of lazy summer days

spent watching the tides rolling in off Narragansett Bay.

She's beautiful in every essence of the word.

Her lips parted as a plume of smoke billowed forth.

I watched her with a schoolboy's curiosity quietly intent on her next decisive action.

The embroidered waves of her sweater swelled forth and brought out the voluptuousness of her round figure.

As the cigarette dangled from her slim yet virginal fingers

she closed her eyes.