What am I up to?
Just spending my rhyme
to decorate time
the way that face
decorates the space
it's placed within.
That grin
is winning me over
to dream something bolder
and dream it tonight.
Oh heavens! Ah Light!
If beauty is truth, truth beauty
then please tell me why
such pretty faces keep telling me
I tell such pretty lies?
To possibly compare, the tongue- it tries
to dance, to paint, to delve, to fly
to name all things bright within a galaxy
or greater, further, within an artery
blooming from fast-beating cardiac seed
to root upward, through mind, to heed
a roaring, cresting, manic creed
of euphoric, gasping epiphany
of what a soul is meant to be
screaming joy at the stars so loud
the planet resonates, and profound
ecstasy spills off the tongue of humanity
unbidden, tears to fill a tropic sea
coiled in corners of eyes on
the windowsill of the horizon,
finally seeing past, into infinity.
And you, decorating this space in front of me,
so wonderfully, so artfully,
there's nothing right now I would rather.. see..
I'd love to know if you're beautiful?
