{ Homage to Taylor Alison Swift }
He's a fire
filled with gasoline.
He's a troublemaking dreamer.
He's a confessed lover.
He's a wild child
in the wind
He's fast
and unstoppable.
He's a lovable mess.
He's a burning sunrise
beautiful and gentle.
He's free and careless.
He's reckless
and addicted to an adrenaline high.
He's a blurred picture
with perfect pixilation.
He's soft and loving
and his touch spreads like
a wildfire taking over.
He's a blazing red flame.
He's the smell of smoke
and the feel of midnight breathe.
He's a faded red flag.
He's a warm cup of coffee.
He's a tall cabernet.
He's a breathless second;
A nettless tightrope.
He listens when I talk
and he can tell me stories for hours.
He lit a fire in me that burns so bright;
I can see it in every second of my life.
He's a burning red.
And he doesn't mind my ice.
{ 2022 }
YOU ARE READING
Alive
PoetryIt is an ugly beast to have to have to tame. Sometimes the easier thing to do instead of learning to tame the beast, is to learn to understand it and move with it. It's a roller-coaster of pain and anger and confusion, but once in a while, it's Aliv...
