Similes

You move me like the beat
Coming from the speakers
Your influence drives me
Like a speeding car
Your beauty radiates into me
Like an x-ray picture
Your lips and smile touch me
Like a slowly slipping hand
Your touch chills me
Like a cool breeze on a hot day
Baby you make me
Breath.

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Fickle

The young drunk man
Riding the subway to
Some ghetto
Or another
Slurred away:
“You know something is the truth
When you feel it
When it hits you in the body”
Ah the truth,
Such a fickle thing.

On you

All my thoughts
Race quickly
In my head
Eventually
Landing on you

A Reminder

Something short and sweet
To remind you I love you
My dearest sweetheart

Darken

Dark.
Dark days.
Dark dark days.
Deeply dark dark days.
Depressingly deep dark days.
Depressing deep days.
Depressing days.
Depressing.
Depressed.

Kiss

You make me feel like
Life’s ours to rediscover
Every tone we kiss

Old Irish Men

The voices of old irish men
Telling of some old when
Dancing over language lost
Speaking of death and it’s cost
Pushing forth a new age in
Writing of mortality and sin
From Butler to Yeates
And the other greats
Still progression does not elate
For sudden sorrow is their state
Oh how we didn’t learn from the greats.