My favorite Poet
Spectral petals, memories, this.
Kissed and coddled and loved, indefinitely.
A memory made of splendid bliss,
each fold, each crease, a lesson in humility.
Upon the downward slope of a gentle crest,
like glistening gems in the star’s light,
Stands a natural place for love to rest,
and longing lips to graze in fleeting flight.
When roads pass and come and fall and rise,
I alone have these eyes, and I need these eyes,
For they have seen my birth, and my demise.