My inner poet
Long, smooth ebony hair
Porcelain complexion
Cobalt blue eyes
She doesn't look like me
She feels like a supernova
Even when she
Is the stardust in your hands
She is beautiful
She was born of teenage turbulence
The white lightning
Dancing there -
In her eyes
Will she nurture
Or consume?
My inner poet
She sees the past
Sifting lines
Through the pen
To the page
She is recognized
In times of great need
When the cries of my soul
Can no longer take refuge in silence
She knows my story
My times of flight
My crash landings
She has learned to soar with me
And clean up the wreckage
My inner poet
She imagines a hundred different lives
But never takes hers for granted
She lives in my thoughts
To her
My eyes are windows
She must speak
No one else can speak her thoughts
She must do it herself
Or disappear
Together we search for a purpose
