Finally a poem and not a poet
Added 2024-09-04 20:44:02 +0000 UTCBefore the first verse caught my eyes
Warmth surged beneath my skin, a rise.
Fingers brushed so gently to paper
And skin–a depth that pulls a savor.
In the reflection of your words, I find my song,
A melody that dances where daydreams swell,
My lips hold truths, no longer shadows to quell,
In your gaze, my voice feels strong.
In gaze, I am the shimmer in the night,
A beauty still, where silence finds release,
My eyes, like sonnets, trace the world in peace,
Yet tremble softly behind tender light.
A truth I wish more could see upon my face,
I ponder the question spoken with care,
Unaware of the charm that others compare,
Yet I see no line that others dare to trace.
When quiet, my words are spoken with light,
I see your fine lines that look like the universe.
Painted by stories I hope to be submersed
And write continuously till a unite.
My lore, although gauzed tightly would be exposed,
The dream to be a poem is done,
Yet the fable I am seems to be unknown,
As my attributes are viewed to be disclosed.
In quiet moments, I could be sublime,
Yet love in that depth can only progress,
Where the pierce of us gives us access,
Remains are puzzle pieces to outshine.
Even though crystal clear, I will speak bright
For the term open like a book has a small role,
Your honey-glazed eyes say more and have no control
Like in the dark, when we met at night.
Underneath short breathes from being intertwined,
And rouge rushing up to close in at our napes,
There is a fondness for writing stanzas to escape,
A poet’s dream, where paths align.
