In this world we come in contact with many people
But there are some
                                    With the artistry of language

There is a kind of humor that only a wordsmith articulates
A kind of intimacy that only a metaphor can tell

A type of eroticism that the presence of its descriptors  

                                    Elicit transcendent flames

And the absence of its poetry leaves it ordinary

And there is something about those people who live instinctively
Knowing that their choice of words can

Capture an experience
Encompass an emotion
                                     Bring it to life and let it fascinate

And those people are my starlight
My still night and moon

Those people are my sunlight
My energy and ocean

They breathe me
Feed me

Surge through me
And identify me
                                      And I am drawn to them

By something bigger than myself, inevitably, we see into one another
Understanding the life within the bonding

                                      Is wordless
But would not exist otherwise.