Writing poetry was always about
falling in love with someone
a certain girl or a boy who made my knees weaken when
the sun caught their deep blue or brown eyes a certain way
when fringed eyelashes brushed on soft cheeks and
white or brown skin took on a hint of rose
but now, I am not on the hunt;
am I allowed to see a muse in the mirror?
Perhaps I can set aside years of hate and antipathy and invisiblity and
fall in love with
myself.
falling in love with someone
a certain girl or a boy who made my knees weaken when
the sun caught their deep blue or brown eyes a certain way
when fringed eyelashes brushed on soft cheeks and
white or brown skin took on a hint of rose
but now, I am not on the hunt;
am I allowed to see a muse in the mirror?
Perhaps I can set aside years of hate and antipathy and invisiblity and
fall in love with
myself.
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As always, be excellent unto others, and don't be a dick.