The internet says (so it must be true)—
“A smile takes twenty muscles to produce.”
But whoever wrote that never met you—
My heart is the only muscle I use.

The internet says (so it must be true)—
“Bill Gates is giving his money away.”
But whoever wrote that never met you—
Since I found you I’m richer by the day.

The internet says (so it must be true)—
“Chocolate will be extinct by end of year.”
But whoever wrote that never met you—
Yours is a sweetness forever, sincere.

The internet says (so it must be true)—
“Click ‘like’ and Ellen will give you a car!”
But whoever wrote that never met you—
You have been my gift and my shining star.

The internet, it seems, has little true—
It’s likes and follows and asinine memes.
Nothing compares to the authentic you—
You’re my one true love made real from my dreams.

The pantheon of misplaced fears,
Whose walls were built on oppressed tears,
Has been well-guarded through the years,
Hiding from curious man’s ears.

There is no faith that threatens fears,
Afflicting the weakest with tears,
No faith like that withstands the years,
Silent in curious man’s ears.

Unchallenged faith the true faith fears,
To give compassion through the tears,
Where questions repeat through the years,
Faith needs curious eyes and ears.

The curious confront faith’s fears,
The curious fight through faith’s tears,
The curious give faithful years,
The curious give faith their ears.

Creating a scene
Won’t make you be seen.
Not in real way,
The way you can say,
“This is who I am.”

Creating a scene
Won’t make you be seen.
The outside you show,
Is not how you know,
“This is who I am.”

Creating a scene
Won’t make you be seen.
Others may flatter,
It does not matter,
“This is who I am.”

Creating a scene
Won’t make you be seen.
Not till we can see
Authenticity.
“That is who you are.”

Never so lost,
Never less hope.
North Star was gone,
Let go my rope.

Never so dark
Never less light.
Landmarks were gone,
Left looked like right.

Never so tired,
Never less born.
Sunset was East,
And in the morn.

Never so scared,
Never less bold.
Map upside down,
My torch burned cold.

Never so sad,
Never less free.
Where’s that compass
Inside of me?

You exist, and I wonder how.
Of desires I feared to allow?
From dreams, did God make you somehow?
By my design are you here now?

I longed for hair silky and black,
Hung to the spot I’d rub her back,
Who’d be my aphrodisiac,
By you I am taken aback.

Your hips are curved to my design,
Perfect taste when your lips meet mine,
Made as if by a poet’s line,
I am a man but you’re divine.

I saw you before I could see,
A thought I thought inside of me,
I sculpted you in fantasy,
How is it you have come to be?

The Devil thought he had me
So many times he tapped me
And said, “Fall in love with this one.”
And I did.

The Devil thought he had me.
So many times love went wrong
He laughed, “He’ll just give up, this one.”
And I laughed.

The Devil thought he had me.
So many times he tried me
And cried, “No true love for this one.”
And I cried.

The Devil thought he had me.
So many times he taught me
And said, “He is stubborn, this one.”
And I learned.

The Devil thought he had me.
So many times I had him
And said, “No, not that one. This one.”
And I loved.

I’ve taken my longing with me
Untethered and alone
Seeking a sense of belonging
To be domiciled in comfort
And have found my fortune.
Your arms feel like home.

These travels found lonely roads
Lost among darkness
Leading to abandonment
And doors unwelcome
Till I found a place to live.
Your arms feel like home.

In the chill of cold nights
Exposed and frozen
Hoping a guardian angel
Would shelter my shiver
Under her protection.
Your arms feel like home.