Saturday, December 31, 2011

Separated By A Comma

She knew he wasn't cowboy hats and Wrangler ass
He was from the desert hot, breathing deathly dry
Lassoing white collar dollars into a blue collar wallet
Herding sunshine and hot pavement into an October wind
The only thing that would make it cool

Arizona he was

He knew she wasn’t Dior perfume and hairspray curls
Her skin fell winter snow, chilled to a pale perfection
She wore two books a day on her nose to make ends meet
Collecting dew covered dandelions by the armfuls to breathe
The only thing that would grant a wish

Tennessee she was

She knew he was a hot mess half the time or better
Intuition ticking too fast to tell the time, but keeping her heart in hours
Reading the bold face type like a crystal bowling ball…..strike after strike
Hoping like hell he is in time to diffuse any confusion
For want of attention he climbed mountains mining diamonds and gold

Emotional he was

He knew she was ten shades of pathetic, an art
Heart beating steadfast to the sound of beauty in word form
Putting out feelers for any space in his emotional cover
Counting in hundreds the amount of problems of loving him
For jumping cliffs and swimming oceans wasn't enough to love him

Pathetic she was

Her pen greased with the blood of a young heart pumping old soul thoughts
Flowed smoothly and lucidly in loops and lines, a beautiful hand
Spelling her wants and desires in spreading pools, concentric circles
Ripples that never die but grow into tsunamis of emotion
Showing others what it is like to feel, address, express, deeply

A writer she was

His words out stood her beauty by a thousand times, black script perfection
Like it or not, you were going to feel, magnified to the Nth degree
He can write you cold, hot, beautiful or ugly; you are his toy as his muse
If you didn’t crave him at the start, you would by the perfectly written ending
Tongue craving his wit and naughtiness, heart keeping time with the sweet words

A genius he was

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