AlienBabyDoll

It's been ages since then, but it still beats-- I love you. I love you. I love you. I've spent light-years holding you in these aging arms of mine, like the 6 trillion miles you must be away from me right now. I'm cold and rusting and… lonely without your lemonade kisses, and those sneaky smiles reserved only for me. Three days and the world has gone…                                     silent.

Her lips, soft like old paper tastes of stardust and ink. I'd kiss her a thousand times over, just to savour the poetry resting on her wasp tongue— but, I'm kissing ghosts with empty eyes, void, naked, and vulnerable like sleeping gargoyles in the mid-day sun. [ I'll love her quietly, close-mouthed               and tongueless,         in the arms of stone angels. ]

His Eyes: To say his eyes are blue Is to say water is wet-- True but without real justice. His eyes are the hue of the heavens And all that lies beyond. They are blue-- Flecked with shards of Saturn's rings And iced with the tickling tones Of the cosmos. Sometimes I wonder if he fell Through galaxies and got stardust On his retinas and a permanent reflection Of moonshine on his corneas Because his gift of sight Cannot possibly be of this planet. Her Eyes: To say her eyes are brown Is to say gold is coveted-- True but without real devotion. Her eyes are the hue of the harvest And all that lies beneath. They are brown-- S

1. The first words I ever heard you say were I'm sorry and a quick farewell. (You said goodbye before you even said hello). And when you left, the curtains trembled without the wind. They knew and I knew that you were different. 2. I called you mister mystery because you never told me your real name. Maybe you were scared that if you did, you'd have to sign on the dotted line (I sent my heart to you in the mail, but it never showed up at your door. I guess it got lost or something). 3. And when the first day of winter came, you decided that the snowflakes looked more like stars. You insisted that shooting stars turn to snowstars in the w

We would sit under moon clouds watching the sun sparkles disappear from the crowded air. You told me that every one word answer had a story behind it. [I guess you were a storyteller, just not wanting to share your stories; your first reaction to everything was 'no.'] - "Do you care?" a. You spent summers in my attic, refusing to let the dust kill beauty. You would rhyme off Shakespeare, as we would forget about the stars, and count tree limbs instead. b. You watched me catch lies and turn them into truths. I was oblivious to the flashing signs telling me to watch out for the fall ahead of me. Maybe I thought you wo

Don't fall in love with a poet -- She'll speak only in riddles and metaphors And expect you to comprehend Or maybe even reply in verse of your own. When you ask her what Her favorite flavor of ice cream is, She'll say wheatgrass, And to favorite color, She'll proclaim strawberry. If she loves you back, she might Say your skin is her sky, And your eyes, her sun. She will not be satisfied if you call her beautiful -- She strives for radiance and enlightenment. She will prefer rich violets to red roses, Bleeding cherries to chocolate, And running barefoot through tulips Instead of candlelight dinners. And if you spite her? Sh