Mine oriental darling
Is mine Asian repunzel;
She was created by God's finger's,
Etched by heavenly pencil's.




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication

I have written about you on napkins in coffee shops and restaurants that traverse continents.  I've written your name on foreign pages in cities you'll never be, at least not with me. I've etched your name onto trees but your initials always feel out of place alongside my own, or at least that's how it seems. You have always traded a taste of ink for words you'll never let me read. You're darkened melancholy that you think tastes too sweet. You had me, oh you had me and I've written down the verse. But the tape is skipping, the record is broken, a melody and a curse

His body is covered in words.
From head to toe.
Etched into his palms.
Blanketed his chest.
Down his thighs and
around his rib cage.
They are everywhere.
His body is the canvas for
Every word and phrase he has ever spoken.

Rain.
It.
Big.
Blanket.
Her.
Finger.
Like.
Leaf.
****.
S­aid.
Cat.
I.

Millions upon millions of words
Carved in 2 point font.
They just appeared.

Every word he has ever uttered.
There is no shying away, no hiding.
They are there.
Forever.
Some make him proud.
"I'm glad I said that at that moment at that time at that place to that person."
Some make him sad.
"I regret that I said that at that moment at that time at the place to that person."

Words make up his body.

They shape it.
They define it.
They build it.

and together,
they form his story.

Nothing will break the stone
even if you and I aren't alone
your legs are toothpicks yet
your ribs remain the same
you'll live forever i bet
at least in the love game.

With your hair down to your hips
and my eyes on your lips
you can say we are both blind
but at any time you can just leave me behind
because while you have somebody to fall upon
my support is gone.

I would rather have no eyes and know the truth
than have them to see the lies.