A Walk with You

When I walk down the street
Going anywhere but here
With you on my mind
A poem is formed.

Usually it rhymes
It often makes sense
And sometimes it’s so cheesy
It’s corny
And it’s like my mouth is filled with Nacho Ole Tortilla Chips
Which was my favourite flavour
So it makes me love you more
If love is the accurate word

Love is what you make it
I make it a house for us to live in
Like Angel, I’ll cover you
Stranger that you are
Still unknown to me
I think of you all the time
You haunt me in my dreams
Assuage my nightmares
Both tormentor and comforter
You are my everything
I want you and resist you
Need you and hate you
Cry and laugh with you on my mind.

Thinking of you makes the perfect poems
So perfect they never get written
Lest they be tainted by any other sense
But touch
I feel those poems
Hear them beneath my breath
Only enough to let them make sense
They are kept from air
Lest they be corrupted
By contaminants therein
Though sometimes the contamination’s worth it

They are only fit for your ears
To be whispered softly
Late at night
Only fit for your eyes
To be sealed with a kiss
Ever so gently pressed
Only fit for you
For you were hand selected
Elected worthy of the words I conjure

These words are purposeful and real
A true reflection of thought and heart
I do not lie when I write these words
It would defeat their raison d’etre
Maybe the feeling is fleeting
Short lived or impetuously created
But the sentiment has always been real
And you should believe that I wrote this all
Because when I walk these streets
To anywhere but here
You painted it all in my mind.

April 29, 2009

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