Listen & Be Heard Weekly Archives

I was her muse as she stood above me,
   Trying to capture the beauty she found in my face,
on paper,
    In pencil.

Seamless tears fell.

The full moon rose behind her as the stars came into
my view brushing
    Softly across my lips and sparkling in her eyes.
Their light delivered my heart into her hands,
Our so loved messenger.

Night fell and all of her feelings poured down on me as
if they were
   Ribbons in the wind.

Her tongue turned to ribbons when she kissed me,
    And I drank in her spirit as if I were dying,
And I was.
Right there in her arms,
    That had now curled around me.

Her picture painted in memories,
Her Pencil still between her fingers,
    And her hair between mine.