Poems carve story's, of what eyes can't see. Colors for blind men, following stars.
It opens up cages. Changes ash into rain.
Dissolves pain on the lips of the mind.
Describes thoughts through physical force.

You fall in love never meeting at all. As if a  ghost is loving on you. Stealing you kisses as your heart melts away. I can't name the times I've thought of a poet who I loved through her paintings printed in words. Its sensual not ***** and course like the act of ***, but rather like the beat of a drum, a butterfly flapping its wings through your mind.
Ill taste your heart. You can taste mine.