Can I take out a loan on your heart?
My credit is good
And I won't equifax it.
I won't rip it apart.

Wandering through the woods,
The colors of the world become engulfed in the snow.
The once colorful world becomes more simple, near black
    and white.
The simplicity of the world makes the answers to the world
    seem just in grasp,
But then I look up and the sky is a mirage of colors as the sun
     rises.

The simplicity that once I believed in melted as I gaze at the
     mornings beauty.
For the world is never easy, even if it appears that way.
Remember to look up at the sky and remember there is
     always color.

She's watching me
but she's never said a word
I know not her face
her touch
her aroma
I've only seen her eyes,
in the stars
for years
and I'll never know why,
her beauty claims the heavens
why,
her light cures the blind
and robs sight from the foolish
indeed,
I've stared too long
transfixed and fiendish, for just a taste
I would make love to her even if she has no body
I would kiss her splendor with my words
caress her aches with fragrant whispers
charm the bones of her imagination with tender glances
and consummate our bonding with admonitions of love.

I need no more than words
to know she loves me,
if she would but speak
yet she only stares...
Her smile is the constellations, I know
and her breath is the sigh of the sun
her arms are the rings of Saturn
and her ******* the moons of Jupiter
yet, I am but a man
I cannot make love to these things
so I pen this yearning,
bold
true...
Sitting under her, the Cosmos,
with passion, I enjoy the view.

You were the catalyst that started my heart.
You were the oxygen that brought me to life.
Limbs once dormant, now guide my path.
Blood once frozen, now navigates my veins.
You took my hand and led me through a world that brought me to my knees.
When I see the future, I can rest with ease.
I know you'll always be there.
Standing next to me.

My heart is a place you write your poetry.

A poem you strum for me
A melody to your remedy
You sang in my heart so passionately
You’ll keep yourself afloat

Sweetheart, my heart is a place you write your poetry.

A place you’d bleed and let fears be the reason you gather the strength within you

A place you will fill with tears, not buckets but oceans of withering waves scalloping your dreams and still be able to breathe

A place you let go of your mere self and tell your broken pieces you’re whole, you’re only hungry for love and more, never enough

A place you will go to often, without thinking, they’re familiar, so comfortable with life uncertainties, you’re oblivious but that’s okay

A place you seek for yourself from yourself to have a better view of who you really are, your reflection and this mirror, fragile and strong

A place you share your hopes and dreams and giving up will never be a part of this

A place you fall and fight; your ups and downs they compliment, and you can stand on your own because you believe,
you’re homed.

a human tool, a drawing pencil, shedding snakeskin cells as
lead from no. 2 pencil

am **** and blood, skin and hairless,
all-to-come-to-go,
return retuned, at their own chosen speed,
gen of regeneration of disrupted oils and heavenly blessings,
morning cracks and orifices, filling and emptying obediently,
to the tidings of the grieving gravity of my moon’s decisions
that govern the lunatic cycle

you may kiss me with all your heart unto a robust welcoming,
scorn with spittle and deem unfit,
I know the difference and it is inconsequential

see me as combustible or flat, airless and empty,
as a new or a two day old leaking birthday balloon, or a haiku
that makes the reader gasp for the reasoning for breathing

think of me as a meme who responds to the touch of
your nippled forefinger, but my powers are unlisted,
therefore unlimited

for I am neither cyber or cypher though aesthetically they
appear as parts of my humanity, a human machine
forever reprogramming to new stimuli sensating,
the temperature of your breath, the many odors of you
as inputs that bear newborn children notions in
my chested gas chambers, the belligerent bellum bellies of my brain

my digital describe in thousands of computers do hide,
but to comprehend the interacting calculations that are
my constancy and my inconsistencies, you must make a tour
if you are awake between midnight and dawn when from
wells the visions, the fluids - the words are drawn

they, the residuals of a man’s ******* with
other humans, kin akin, and the thriving discourse between l,
man and parental gods of invisible powers, that offers insanity
as a viable solution, to cracking the codex human DNA
in the vial labelled Medusa

Who else?