you try to search
beauty in complexities
of nature....
when it takes a
SPECK OF DUST
to beautify you
for eternity

'

*I became a poet the day I wrote your name

in 1 bed
there lay 2 inked bodies
she was filled with pictures
and all of them seemed to mingle perfectly
the eagle on her neck, the hourglass on her waist
He continued looking at her
her soft features,
how every tattoo was a piece by a different artist
but they all were perfect

He was filled with words
and oh, how beautiful he looked in them
the ink flowed in his skin to form various words
Many of them said he might come back stronger than ever
Some were a gentle reminder of loved ones
"Not a single cover up in all these years"
he would flaunt them to her.
She would giggle in response

in 1 bed
lay 2 inked bodies
with 1 heart beating

I'll be your 4am dream.
Could you be my 7pm kiss on lipstick-faded lips?
And fingertips meeting yet again at 11pm?