I rarely write a love poem, but when I do, it’s about a girl I’ve never even met.


She’s ice-cool
and at any moment
you could feel the wings
of her eyes on you
the bright brutality
of a frosted flower
Everything feels strange
a spell in my bones
holding my body
martyr to her whim
her song hidden in my heart

Fuck, she’s so cool
filled with the night
her voice magic, love
and everything after
a poet done, dead inside my mind
because how could I describe
a dream, a trance
an image of a spirit
the special one
keeping my time
in her beauty

Fuck.
She’s so cool.
fragrance of rain
beginning with a sigh
speeding towards me
curving in and knocking me down
and all the stops in my life
are made clear
since I had to be here
to lay beside her
and rest for a while

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