Why.

Met the most beautiful man tonight,
as lovely–as flawed–as I:
a delight.
—

You’re a beach ball baby
with a teenager’s eye
a man on a bench in the park.
Gurgle smile
subtle style
twinkle and breathe it all in.
Take you in
you don’t go down
you can’t be swallowed
you stay.
You taste you feel
like every age
transcendental
fruit sweet.
—

I get you
without having you-
your tears run down
my hair.
Your salt wet trickles
to my throat-
it stings me
as it soothes.
I feel green flash
the kind you see
by chance
when sun has set.
Your drawer stays closed;
your route unchanged.
When did you
last sing?
You listen, then
you’re plucked away-
you’re on you’re off you’re out.
You cannot know
what you have changed
nor what
you’ve proven false.
—

To me, you’re an
impossible gift,
sweet sweet dilemma–
tout de suite.
I can, in fact, I will
prattle on–
but I’d rather
hear you breathe.
Sometimes you seem
a nobleman’s wife;
a Bensonhurst girl
with a brother.
Lovely and just
beyond my grasp,
so barely touched–and yet
the air through which
you walk each day
is fine–it flows
through me.

You enable me
to not only breathe,
but to inhale,
to smell,
to sing.
Like music, you’re in me,
you move me, you are
a highly human miracle.
Like music, I take you
as you are,
beautifully flawed,
but true.
—

The Unknown

Clem Snide loves it.
I accept it.
Like green flash
it stills me.