You lure me with your charm–
Playing with the fire in my mind
The temptation of the flowing words,
The mask for my dents.
You tempt me with your sublimity–
The beautiful ambiguities,
Clever words and suggestive meanings
The perfume to this stench.
You make me run to you
At times of great joy and sadness,
Of confusion and clarity,
The balm to my burns.
You bring the best and the worst in me:
My soul swimming in my words–
Manic, melancholic, deranged;
Hopeful, desparate, and placid–
All conjured up in a bundle of words.
You entrance me with your mystery
How you keep my heart yearning for you,
How you keep me bringing life to you
How you keep me alive.
My love affair with poetry is sometimes too distractive that I can’t move on with whatever I have to do until I get to write down the words in my mind. No matter how important that task is, I will always find a way to accommodate writing. I write as if my life depends on it– for every word I hold back is one breath I deprive myself with.