my love.

my love listens --
pays attention

she rewrites herself
to console my feelings
& doesn't have structure
to her daily routine

[spontaneous...just the way i like 'em]

she formulates her syllables
into mystic spells,
heard by the ancient dieties

[she prays to the fire god
& worships a paper messiah]

she cries
for my dry eyes

she bears my bruises
when i've run out of skin

she picks at my scabs
so i can bleed again

[if i'm free of suffering,
then i'm blind to her natural beauty]

she melts into me
& sighs beneath my fingers

[i caress her similies
& slide my tongue into her metaphors]

have you heard of my love?
her name

...is POETRY.