she speaks
directly to my heart
through the
silent syllables
left hanging
off of the page

i scream
hoping she hears
through the clutter
in the empty cries
hollowing out
the soul of poetry

i am in love
with this woman
in her hair
dripping poetry
with every smile

every ode
has been to her
since the moment
her words took root
in my mind
i knew i was hers

she reaches
into my chest
to sculpt the clay
my very soul
with her divinity

as i
seek to define
unlike anything
i have ever experienced
yet sought everyday

One thought on “clay

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