i found my muse
when i found you
i could write about
the confidence in your walk
the taste of your tongue
the softness of your smile
and everything in-between
for hours on end
i find poems
embedded in your neck
and the only way to get them out
is with my lips
i find fragmented sentences
on your back
and the only way to fix them
is by subtly tracing my fingers
along your skin
your eyes
oh god
theyre a book in themselves
and im still trying
to figure out what they say
the freckles dusting your cheeks
are very similar to single words
much in need of being
strung together
to form the loveliest sentence
ever whispered into a summer breeze
your lips
remind me much of pieces of poetry
ive never gotten to finish writing
but my lips are the pen
and your mouth is my paper
so i wouldnt mind seeing the final product
not even the worlds best poets
could come together
and write something
the capture the beauty of your existence
my words
are merely an understatement

-m.v.