To the sweet in your heart
and obsessive implication,
I beg of you to tighten this
vice grip
and catch me the scent of your
fleeting flower fragrance
passing by my
squinting eyelids,
with my smile
casting ear to ear.
You are so simply real,
to me.
The painter casting silhouettes throughout
my timid trees.
A shadow scared in darkness
except when solely sewn to see.
why can’t they all just
let us
be
Blood from your veins
as the smell before rain,
sets a tremble in waves
towards a floating
in peace.
As I’ve seen you in dreams,
I’ve envisioned you sleeping
with your
all together breathless making
movies in your eyelids.
Maybe time can step aside
and let me melt into your mind.
I find it hard enough to slip inside
your grace without
forgetting life,
and fathoming a future
where your time is spent
composed in mine.
The weather in my room is awfully
logical,
except when you pass through
and turn forever into everything
I’d love to do.
If something is the substance
from a nothing that I’ve lived
before,
you were every melody
I traipsed until you
gave me rhythm.
Rapture 