s.

do i start ranting like a madman to anyone that would listen?

how pristine, how petite, how divine is my vision?

how maybe i have found religion?

the meaning, the reason to what you call god

love; an infirmary i caught.

her hair a color of spectrum’s of day break

her eyes a comfort and as beautiful as a summer lake

she smiles and the world suddenly has fewer problems

she laughs and my heart imitates a leaky cauldron (it skips a beat!)

do i start explaining the innumerable joys i feel throughout the day?

how even my chilly winters are reminiscent of the pleasant may?

she wakes up late, with expectations of cuddles

and awakens my life to a time i had less troubles

her eyes are black sapphire that haze my vision

i take the key and look myself in, a happy prisoner.

each sorrow removed, all wishes accepted.

her mood swings are a little girl on a swing alone

her questions are simple, yet magical, like the break of dawn.

shall i go on?

i can compare her to the sun, but then the sun sets.

i may describe her as the songs the moon sings, but then the moon wept.

i carry her in me, even when away she is a part.

she is the reason, the stars stay apart.

for if they were brought together, the scene would be that of utmost perfection;

and even that would pale in front of her!; i raise this interjection.

do i go out on a limb and say i am complete?

but that would be a lie too, i must admit defeat.

for what is completeness? a trite remark to not continue,

to sit at home, till the food goes cold, and not have any urge to go to.

a weed induced trance that is artificial and beyond control.

i control my destiny, and my journey is foretold.

it started with her in my dream, and my dreams pales in her reality

intermixed colors on her paintbrush, she splashes my cult of personality

we talk subtext and pretext, for the context is understood without words,

we stay grounded, and yet fly above all like doves.

a powerful invictus; a jack daniel toast; a cocaine shot.

i conquer all but she conquers me.

i give in, submit; a victorious defeat.

i look at the lights above, as i lie on my back

i take my gloves off, and offer her a left jab.

she takes her swing, and the stars i see

are nothing to the sight of my eyes on thee.

do i explain what i feel when we dance?

the way time stands still, each moment a trance

we dance in our kitchen, with flour on us,

a foxtrot, a waltz, a rumba, a two person applause

for no one to see, for no one to feel,

other than the two people involved,

within each other; drowned.

i may say i have achieved the perfect words to explain her,

but that would be a lie.

maybe i will wake up tomorrow, when i see her again in all her glory

and dare another try.

Photo by Edward Eyer on Pexels.com

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