So many cold winter nights have come and gone.
But I still have a desire to feel your warmth once again.
I yearn for the type of love that heals pain.
I yearn for your presence in ways that I cannot explain.
You are the words in my incomplete poems.
You are the words I long to write.
You are the poems I long to recite.
These ears patiently await the whisper of love.
I listened to my heart and all I could hear was you.
All I could hear was you.

I’ve been dreaming with my eyes open ever since I met you.
I read you like the pages and chapters of a great novel that I never want to complete.
You became a poem I patiently wrote without words.
You’re my sunshine through the rain.
You’re my love through the pain.
Show me how it feels like to be whole again.
Tease my mouth with just the closeness of yours.
Rub your smile onto my lips.
You speak as though poetry rests on the curves of your lips.
You’ve got distractingly captivating curves.
The kind of curves not found in cursive.
These words spoken may often go unheard.
These poems may often remain unread but the beauty in your smile never goes unnoticed.

When you are the breeze, I can never forget to breathe.
You have left traces of profound joy in my pulse and now my heart no longer beats the same.
I have a hunger for love to fill the appetite of pain.
I crave for your presence in ways that I cannot explain.
Show me how it feels like to be whole again.
I want a reality worth dreaming about.
I yearn for the type of love that leaves no room for doubt.
I want the beat that my heart skips to praise your beauty.

So many cold winter nights have come and gone.
But I still have a desire to feel your warmth once again.
I yearn for the type of love that heals pain.
I yearn for your presence in ways that I cannot explain.
You are the words in my incomplete poems.
You are the words I long to write.
You are the poems I long to recite.
These ears patiently await the whisper of love.
I listened to my heart and all I could hear was you.
All I could hear was you.

We are the poets.
We create poetry out of silence.
We are so incredibly good with words.
People often wonder what our hands can do.
People find these fingers incredible.
They watch as these fingers transform simple words into beautiful poetry.
They watch as static thoughts transform into kinetic conversations.

As simple as they are, these words tend to sound like proverbs.
The void that you constantly try to avoid.
We will fill that void with light.
The type of light that constellations hunger for.
These hands transform simple words into beautiful poetry.
The aim is not always to write to impress.
But rather to write to express.
We constantly find light in the darkest of places.
Even constellations envy the light found in our eyes.
With a suitable paint brush, these words can create vivid images of paradise.

Our words create worlds.
Our words create worlds within worlds.
Our words capture moments and paint pictures.
So next time you hear one of us recite, bring a friend and a frame along.

We create poetry out of silence.
We are so incredibly good with words.
People often wonder what our hands can do.
People find these fingers incredible.
They watch as these fingers transform simple words into beautiful poetry.
They watch as static thoughts transform into kinetic conversations.
We are the poets, you should ask the world about us.