Your whole being is poetry,
from the way you talk,
the way you walk,
the way your lips,
form wrinkles,
each time you smile,
from your deafening silence,
to your soft voice,
poetry,
when you put your arms around me,
bringing me warmth,
against my cold, melancholic body,
when you hold my hand,
making me feel less lonesome,
making the moment grand,
you're poetry,
complex yet subtle,
defined yet undefined,
and I'm just a hopeless poet,
hopelessly trying to decipher,
hopelessly trying to write,
the ambiguous,
you.