i want to have faith in you
but i want you like i want air.
raspy gasps
of
repulsions
and hasps.
unlock your
potential.
break free from
referential.
inhibitions are
limiting conditions.
reenvision the unreedeming.

Oh yes,
you are an angel of light.
like gold, like sight.

blehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

The thoughts come out like
   a stream into my words. I don't mind them.
They mean whatever they do.
Whatever the semblance your eyes
come across.
           I'm yours in that way.
       I wish I could change
    that reality,
          but I have no desire
        to change what has already been beautifully
        made.
               I'll keep at it.
              Even if in there everyone would
                  darken my shine.   Just
          Like an unlit candle in
               a room of only shadow,
               we could find the use out of you -
                                                          but you
            won't turn the lights on for me, and
          I refuse to burn your wicker if
            that your case.

the times will come
where
       when is all desolate
    and the what is ruin amidst
           so many of how.
                  but within the love lost and love
found,
            I'll be thinking of you.

the best poems that have been
made haven't been fully written
down with just words.
little pieces ?
  sure.
     Our memory can
      only really keep
              so much.

      But to see the
          poems flow
like the crowds of the multitudes
       that are a part of city streets,
             it is there that I feel
                everything;

              it is all fully written
                      down.

              Presently, I watch the
         Writer writing unrivaled opus.
                            the waves of wind.
                                   honking horns.
                                 the steps of feet.

                                    a child laughs.

she's afraid he might just be more than everything she could have wanted.
the life, of endearment and comfort,
of excitement, of trouble, and the dreamy star-stuffs of the vision over hills.

but really, he is only just enough for her.
(he consists of only- like, hallmark platitudes)
and she deserves to be within " you are good and better of enough ".