i sat down inside myself trying to hear myself speak;
i'd never really say these things, but i wanted to at the time.
somehow it would feel right. somehow, the beauty in the beads of rhetoric
that stream from my lips would sweet talk your heart open
and i would dive in
just to explore the very depths of you. i wanted to find
where God resides in you and paint pictures of my reason
on the inside of the walls enclosing your mind. i wanted to find
a puddle of emotion
and jump in it
splashing and soaking in all that is what you are and
what i want to learn of you. all this time,
i was echoing silently inside myself trying to perfect my speech
so it might strike you, maybe you'd find me striking
and beautiful standing guard in front of a gradiant past
drawing from light to dark to light again. i could start by telling you
how your eyes inspire me or how my stomach is still reduced to butterflies
when your rusty copper colored aura collides with mine
but my words are merely sand slipping softly
through the holes in your heart
and disappearing with the tide that is the difference
between what we used to be and what we
have become.