subject!?
you are my subject.
my poem, my paint, my figure d'art.
you are that inspiring breath that carries men to islands far
off, to meet their bosme'd dooms, that wind that takes men and causes them to
fell tears over prodigies and parentage, that whimsical breeze that makes
men kill for love, to end love, to have love.
i draw you, write you, scribble you down between socrates and plato,
basic chemical composition and physical laws of motion. i jot you down
in the stead of grocery lists, my planner is you, you, you.
my song! my life, my eyes and mine sight and ears, the fragrance (on a sense of)
(is) intoxicated! i sketch you with every glance, offhand look, daring stare, loving
revealing entracement. i create no master work but a million, every line perfect.
and you, you are no seventeen note meledy repeated with mild differences in cadences,
but a grandiose perfection of words and notes, sounds, no, no words enough.
break.
how could i be bored?
my poem, my paint, my figure d'art.
you are that inspiring breath that carries men to islands far
off, to meet their bosme'd dooms, that wind that takes men and causes them to
fell tears over prodigies and parentage, that whimsical breeze that makes
men kill for love, to end love, to have love.
i draw you, write you, scribble you down between socrates and plato,
basic chemical composition and physical laws of motion. i jot you down
in the stead of grocery lists, my planner is you, you, you.
my song! my life, my eyes and mine sight and ears, the fragrance (on a sense of)
(is) intoxicated! i sketch you with every glance, offhand look, daring stare, loving
revealing entracement. i create no master work but a million, every line perfect.
and you, you are no seventeen note meledy repeated with mild differences in cadences,
but a grandiose perfection of words and notes, sounds, no, no words enough.
break.
how could i be bored?