perfect imperfections
i wait anxiously...
like held breath in deep waters,
for you to take off your cool,
so that i can see you.
i chant your name in prayers for praises,
so that i can help protect you...
while...
singing songs of your perfect imperfections,
i daydream of loving you.
Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.
Unknown Source
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Thoughts Of You | 0 | 08/25/2009 |
| perfect imperfections | 0 | 08/21/2009 |
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