Twist: a poem for a boy

in the margins of notebooks
i fill with verses
lay pictures
meant for him..
words scripted for effect
and love i never thought I'd respect
and know I'll never send..

he twists the sun into knots
the moon says he never calls..
our stars write him love letters
with every twinkle of their southern bells..

he moves me
beyond moving
touches without touching
holds without holding

he's the place that is a home
with no walls
no rules
no burried pain

I come without exception
expecting nothing
but i always learn
as I am molded
and shapped

by the sound of the his reason..
mirror mirror
how do you reflect so
the boy and his piano..
who plays his song real slow
his love is long and loyal
his passion coiled and wound
in every key he strokes
every cord he strikes
every desire he makes..

the snow melts
walls crumble
the earth spins
and my whole universe
smiles at me in eyes i can't see

he's just the sorta man..
to bend the sun.

[This message has been edited by Poets (edited July 18, 2001).]