Or maybe just write one about life too
It would seem like a veil of romance floating into the winds
Landing on us and covering us in a weave of words
Words are but
Shallow, often contorted by poets
The millions of modernism bound poets puking charades
Of things like love they cannot even fathom
So love, what could I do with you around everyday
Maybe send you away for a bit, and feel the clawing at my nerve
For you seem to drug me into a calmness
Like the vast silent darkness of space
They make everything seem beautiful set in motion
They are now the definition of what I call home
My home, and it travels in your soul
So maybe a poem everyday is not a good idea
Maybe I will send you prayers, every time you are away far
Hoping my ability to write poetry or whatever it ends up becoming
Drags your soul back
And you wrap your arms around my chest
holding me tight, breathing into my hairy chest and complaining it tickles your nose
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