I beam,
at the perspicacity of ones heart...

You are pulchritudinous.
And sometimes I wonder whether...

She makes me happy
With distance this long...

I'm a hard art.
Paint made of many faces...

A kiss.
Delicate...

A strand finer than thought,
A thread thr caliber of nothing...

Ancient cries
Still floating between things...

What is art?
It's speaking from the heart...

What is art?
It's speaking from the heart...

In love with your words
your world...

Love is not obsessing
or object possessing...

You are my sunshine,
my heart brightest moonlight...