when i opened
my sleepy eyes
as hazel indignation
rolled through
the shadowy room
your name lay
softly enveloped
by my tongue
tapping my teeth
a morning declaration
determined to
spring forth
to ride the winds
of another
stormy gray day
a pleasant song
whistling amongst
the green leaves

if i were as
talented as neruda
able to make
your knees weak
with these morning
odes to beauty
as reflected off of
your effortless
poetic perfection
instead of these
hamfisted attempts
to sum up
how the sound
of your voice
sends my equilibrium
into somersaults
or my willingness
to rename the
very stars themselves
as captured in
your bottomless gaze

but i cannot
hope to match
the masters of
this dead art
with my clumsy verse
a lack of ability
in describing the envy
the sun feels
when you first awaken
or of how it felt
the world was
a cold dead prison
until your smile
awoke the sparrows
in my chest
filling my every
absent thought with
songs celebrating
your light as it
suffuses my blood
filling every cell
with rapturous hope

all i can do
is whisper my love
in awkward tones
incapable of ever
truly penning verse
that sums up
the indescribable
joy of existing
on the same plane
as the woman that
embodies everything
beautiful and serene
every desire sculpted
from sea foam
lovingly draped in
summer’s flame
how wildflowers blossom
beneath your barefeet
and stars fall
to be closer to you

neruda would pen
a masterpiece
he would describe you
as a goddess
a force of nature
bukowski would rage
drunk and bitter
at just seeing you
pass by on the street
yet all i can muster
after hundreds
if not thousands
of attempts
is my basic truth
i love you
there is nothing
i would not do
to ensure your smile
no sacrifice too big
to prove my words true
as your name
rolls across my tongue
a burst of light
on a morning ripe
with swollen storms