My moon, my man.

in the library, writin’ poems

pumpin’ these bad boys out for my Intro to Poetry class!

Red curly hair, tomato spiraled feelers

I watch you dance through the wind

And bounce in my mind

And soft when I touch

And refuse to unwind.

Youre endearing too much

And I cast you aside

But when I told you to leave

I probably lied.

_

She took her eyes from the road and looked at me with the hope I needed

With her absence of fear, nothing could have competed.

I wasn’t judged, I was admired

We drove intently

She’s retired

I’ll never know the hardships or time that she took

To put me first

She doesn’t cook

She takes the sand and makes a palace

She knows my heart but not my malice

I’m better because she sees the light inside

I’m granted love through supreme override.