Am not always perfect,
Though perfect is in the stars,
And perfect is the thing that trails me, like kites, to a sky,
I could watch a hundred lifetimes.
You...
Are the sky and the moon,
They talk of
In poem after monotonous poem...
But not at the fault
Of the poet.
Perhaps,
Dear Doe,
It's just our language doesn't suffice.
No more words do I want to "waste" on you,
For fear, dear Love, of what more you can do...
You've already run away with it all.
I am born again...
But I know
You have it in you
To make me blue.
Again.
And maybe again over.
I keep
Watching you...
Looking for some clue,
As to what it is that has me entranced
Like everybody else...
And while I take time to stop and look,
I see, I am seeing through you...
And yet ever, maybe hardly at all?
The
"I don't know" of it all,
Is the envy that has me chasing
Like Bonnie and Clyde,
And baybe, you can be my Bonnie,
And I will ravish you...
As always,
As ever.
It, is in these words,
I see you, and us,
As us,
Is.
For you are the wife of no man...
And yet, here,
I have claimed you.
Entrenching are the waters and seeds and roots than run deep, like veins, and earth as Pulse.
Rusted over and "willowing"...
My old muscles knot into the earth,
Holding with it,
My magic.
Here you are, fairy...
Merely dancing around my ring.
Having us both wonder,
For how long it is that you
Plan to stay.
Stay?!
...STAY.
What more can I ask or say,
But for you to stay...
Since it seems you
Have captured my heart fairy,
While this tree lays under your moon, and sky nights knowing
That for a tree to capture a fairy, is an impossible thing!
Surely...
If a fairy ever stays...
It is because..
She
Wants to.
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