Perfect Picture ...

I have always wanted to remmeber her
in the most primitive way
Mornings that were born
To smell like her
Like first dew that glistened shamelessly
Windows hazed up with moistured breaths
Cradled under long nights
Of coiled up slumber
Hot coffee sips 
Cups held like her waist
Carefully with love
Waking of eyes drowsy and innocent
And the searches for a face
That lies beside
Smiles that conceals the mysteries
Written as star streaks
Across night skies
When bodies didn't matter
And respirations mingled
To form the perfect picture
Her and me and us.

Tracings ...

These tracings along your spine
Of raised hopes
And dearly placed chills
Of lips rooted strongly
Along every curve and bend
Like roads yet to be taken
I will tour along you
Fingertips that will forget
To slip off
And discoveries that will be
Hidden like treasures
Under shuffled sheets
And bumpy skins.

Ranting ...

The taste of love through her lips
Times that learned to land
A month and more to make her mine
Completeness in her hand.

Poet ...

The closure she craved
Written on tombs and graves
Spread beneath sheets of time
Body of sand and dust
One day meant to rust
And a destiny of wavy lines
Fiery shadows that walked too long
Still going strong
Footsteps bled on stars
Journeyed heart and soul
Way far from whole
And well hidden scars
Redefined beauty through smiles
The ashes of longing in her eyes
A form of such graceful silhouette
Words that made home on walls
Reborn lady from each fall
She my poem, she my poet.

Simplicity ...

She was a tornado
The sting of sunrays when it first hits your eyes
The spark that breathes into thunder
There was so much untold magic
In the way she reached out
To unhelped hands
There was so much electric
In the way her soul knew how to flow
Beneath and through the blandness of the world
And shine right out the way
Her eyes shone while dancing in the rain.
She was all the simplicity found
When drops like crowns hit and made it smell like first love.
She was all the grandeur seen
Through hazes of first rain.
She was all and everything.

Ranting ...

She, of a song
Sang with so much
Brokenness
That every cord
Of hers,
Every tune,
Played nothing
But everything
He ever understood
And breathed in.

Forever more ...

In her eyes I found a fire
That cooled off my flmae
Grasping hands and entwined fingers
Hearts held without shame
Warmth of hers that dripped from me
Through and through the day
Curved lips of perfect words
Songs sung my way
Messy sheets threaded with love
Subtleties on breaths
Neck that held in kisses soft
Marks of turbulent rest
Pages sewed with spilled words
Rooted together we stand
A day a month a lifetime more
Squeezing back of hands 
Silent voices from me to you
Beyond infinite shores
I'll hold you as heartbeats mine
Today tomorrow forever more.