*

Poor man-boy's heart
I must cut me from it
Lest I forget
To tell the body
Walk! Talk! Sit!
Surviving, these things I must impart!
-True,
I am at fault
For drinking myself into proximity of you
Driving heart half-mad
Flooding reality with your face
Touch my lips
As if you had
As if slipping through some abyss
in your kiss
I am fault
Creating tales like this,
Dreaming up for these eyes
Your skin like a carriage
That takes me through
Heart's painted halls of your image
And who but I
Could comprehend
Or have a clue
This is you in my veins
That enclose them with blue?
But alas and well-a-way
One thing I cannot do,
When all's said and done
Heart beats for you.