Come walk through the grains with me
Sand shimmering like stars
Constellations of symmetry
See them join and split apart

Come watch over new stars with me
Sparks dancing in our eyes
Starlight like you could never see
Make our home among the skies

Come paint these skies blue with me
Hide and seek between the clouds
Dive right into a stormy sea
Roam unseen depths darkness enshrouds

Come make mountains move with me
Paint monumental worlds
A playground of pure fantasy
Watch your minds power unfurl

Come and wander this world with me
Adventure awaits the bold
Surmount a cliff or climb a tree
What mysteries do cities hold?

Come fly to the stars with me
Let's make this journey never end
I'll be the boat to your sea
All you will need is a pen

Divine fragments
Fall into my mind
Your face,
Your scent,
Your voice and words so eloquent
I spiral through
Everything I love about you
For three days now
I've dreamt of you
And surely,
I have no idea of what to do
These feelings are like a riptide
Pulling me far away from reality
The fantasy of you is nearly drowning me
But being around you is intoxicating
You get my head spinning and my heart racing
My eyes follow you
And my ears hear your every word
Your smile,
The way you comb back you hair
Sends electricity down my spine
And shivers through my body
When I'm home
I see your face
In my mind's eye
And those strong feelings wash over me once again
And pull me out deep into the sea.

The cross made of ash
on the forehead:
a reminder of the love
given to us
for eternity.

Of all days,
It is this day that
we celebrate love.
But why not everyday?

Seeing how
we were from dust
and to dust
we shall return.

Before we are burnt to ashes
and return to dust,
may Love burn
brighter than any star we can find.

May we know
Love's true value
before throwing it
to the flames.

A broken heart
I would welcome
If truth be told

Over a heart
That would become
Unfeeling... Cold.

"She was an
unusual dresser.
Every night,
she wore bruises
on her heart,
love on her lips,
pain in her eyes,
and ink on her fingers.
They called her poetry."