Beyond the Muse

Only when you take my breath away
through the veil of tears
as hummingbirds extract the joy from flowers
does the deluge of mentally deranged poets
shouting indirectly at each other
in soap-opera fashion
seem worth it
wading through all the existential flaming garbage -- it's kind of like an absurdist true romance
but I'm too lowlife for that
you're too real with genuine intent and a depth of cosmic intuition
staring into those deep celestial filled dark eyes, I often wonder if I could just reach and pluck a star out of them
carrying it my pocket
kind of like e.e. cummings -- I carry your heart
I adore the rhythm of your breath
in a way it's kind of like finding myself through the map that is our bodies entwined
a higher form of geography
you're poetry
just not
as poetic
as the cherry scone
I just ate