Drink in the moon as though you might die of thirst.
all the wordsall the poems know my warm, soft spots.
be the kiss in my hairthat no one seesmove, when i movesigh, when i sigh...be that line from a poemthat i hold in my eyes.
Great struggles make for great stories.
my motheris pure radiance. she is the suni can touchand kissand holdwithout getting burnt.
your handtouching mine.this is howgalaxiescollide.
i am alwaysstalking you, my dear. with my thoughtsmy words.my breath.
Poems are soft kitten furs. smoothing out the rough edges of my world.
you are ever the only onei want to giveall the peachesin my heart tothe only one by whomi want them bruised.
Hands. Cheeks. Eyes. Lips.Neck. Ears.Thighs.Heart. Soul.Ahh!the things I get tosavor you with.
Maybe life is all about twirling under one of those midnight skies, cutting a swathe through the breeze and gently closing your eyes.
The most beautiful, amazing and inevitable fact about life- Everything has a natural healing process.
you make autumn misttaste like champagne and turn winter raininto the elixir of life itself.
a silent night. - the most eloquent poem i have ever read.
One clear moment, one of trance One missed step, one perfect dance One missed shot, one and only chance Life is all...but one fleeting glance.
Look, moonI turned silver for you.
depth and substance.the two most exquisite qualities. be it in a poemor a person.
my dear, I have nothing to say.my heart burns like the evening sky.
to be a poet meansto live with a permanent wound forever susceptibleto either the shade of the skyor someone's eyes.
I want you to crave the crisp ocean breezeas much as I do.I want your soul to beas rain-swept as mine.