She’s my sunlight in a world that’s gray. She’s breaking through the clouds in each and every way that counts. Beams of light to save my life, I’m saving my life thinking of her a little every day.

Soothing the fires raging inside with word play; twisting and bending, breaking and fixing, contorting images in my head to fit to the words on paper; the warmness of her words like a blanket.

I’m holding what I know about this woman close to home and when I try to forget, I’m just faking it. Every thought that falls from her lips was spoken to raise my spirit. This just might be true love and possibly the first time I can feel as if I’m part of, no longer on the sidelines as the world plays the part of the juxtaposed passerby, no longer will I have to stand idly by.

Escaping confines as a figment of my memory, no logic or reason can define this muse to any extent or tell me what she represents. My head is spinning and my thoughts are caving in and now I’m having problems forming sentences about this woman.

25-may-2008