My first poem was born,
on Orquidia's beauty mark
that sat next to her upper lip
as if patiently waiting for me
and my eager hands to knock on her door
if it was my first poem of love,

I never knew where it really was born,
perhaps it was on Julia's ardent smile
that always kept me for awhile
underneath the shade of her finger's touch
I would make a map of her cheekbones
as vast and immense as the Earth's Core,

like the way I could see the Amazon
thought Johanna's green eyes
dense like the kisses that we shared
and I could never find my way
if in fact it was my first love poem
the one I wrote about her,

Daisy would have had something to say
I was her most precious secret
at night fall she would come to my lair
and like lovers from other times
I kept a string of her hair
hidden in a letter nobody ever saw,

but Leah remained my greatest muse
the most imperfectly perfect verse
impossible to resist was her mouth
my heart had finally found a home
I rested on her chest until dawn,
she was my first poem of love,

or at least that's what I'd like to think
even if they were loves lost forever
they each shine like shooting stars
far away in the universe of my mind
while my pen patiently awaits along with your presence
quintessential true love, the owner of my verses.