redo

sometimes you must erase the date to update. so this is now, and this is me, only he is no longer…

he is like the moon in Sweden’s early spring, bathing in Pandora’s unborn innocence. I watch him walking away, like Sade’s voice, coloring Jupiter’s shadow, foreseeing the plot of 2046. i open my soul to see his eyes, his lips, hands, his scent, blending with tender flaws. He is oh so special, for me to write a poem, and let it flow as snow spring rain tangoing rivering down the night sky, could never truly show the world what a beautiful man he is.