He stands tall, a statue, of marble stone

Michelangelo carved Carrara bone

Faded northern lights fill those darkened eyes

Watercolor painted gaze, cobalt skies

Lips of ripened fruit, slices plump and sweet

Kiss deep and true, no ocean could compete

Freckled arms, pale thighs, lions mane of hair

Soft voice, deep and smooth, tone an angels prayer

Gifted hands mend metal, precision’s son

Complex matter solved puzzle, mess undone

Genuine promise and vulnerable heart

Precious treasure, a regal Bonaparte

A man adored, nor royal or Greek heir

Captivating just the same, chosen pair

To be at my right hand, to guard my throne

Stable rock, handsome statue, marble stone

One to call my love, man to call my own

He stands strong, my statue, my marble stone

Darling, if we were born in a different time, or perhaps how we loved in a past life unbeknownst to us, I would write you 1000 letters and love poems in my finest cursive calligraphy and send you Polaroid pictures and pressed roses in the mail every week…

When I placed my head between her legs I was drinking from the fountain of youth

And when she placed her lips on mine I was tasting the sweetest truth

A spark ignited when our bodies united, hers pressed up close against mine

Beautiful masterpieces composed of her melodic odes, every syllable absolutely divine

However, like all hearts often do, the magic within us had faded

All that had once shimmered glitter and gold had now become rusted and jaded

So when the colors of the sunset disappear into gray

Remember that it was you who threw our love away

created this blog so you could peruse the musings of a tortured soul 🖤