I like stars,
they're pretty, truly
cruelly, in irony
ebony of the night
they undull

I like mornings,
their colors like
spikes of paint,
faint but majestic
elastic light waves
of four hundred fifty
six hundred twenty
plenty, of wavelength

I like the cold,
rolled into covers
lovers entwined
blind to a frail,
stale reality of
everything, basically


I like your reading
preceding these lines
vines and strings
of things plane,
mundane that I
try to hold onto
since I'm a bit loose


...Thank you dearly
kindly
sincerely

they say love is blind
some speak of it’s weakness
lack of existence
turmoiling persistence

oh how they’re wrong

i’ve seen what it does, felt it's affliction
falling in love, you can’t choose your conviction  

love isn't just blind
it's deaf and so mute

your words, how they echo
the feel of unrest
i will always remember you, as nothing but best
your memory won't taint
your image, clean, so pure
the meticulous thoughts, and prominent words
things you said, and phrases unspoken
your hesitation and pride
the look in your eyes
the expressive emotion
all led to my demise

i tried moving on
clearly, it failed
i'll never feel free
save yourself, leave me be.