Sometimes I cannot stand
That you live outside the curves
Of the world built with words
Carefully crafted to capture in awe
The readers of your form.
You are free written breathlessness
Struggling to speak phrases
Alien to my lips
Plucked from histories spent
In fragile recollection.
Italicized glory drips from your tongue
As temptations grounded in tradition
Sliding between the teeth
That spell my name in black.
Spoken in haste,
Rebuffed in recitation
Then carved in stone.
You are more than words;
Be free of expectation.
For, in reality, you are simply more.
Moonlit Poetry 