"When I Was Born."

These thoughts are secrets that my

Heart overheard from the conversations

In my head.

Sure its nosey but my heart KNOWS ME.

Every beat is company so I never get lonely.

It attempts to mimic the love that she's shown me.

Every night, I write about her.

Using bold metaphors with old descriptions

That I've never said before.

And she reciprocates these inscriptions with the wisdom

That I seek.

I speak to her. No, I speak through her.

She is my medium through which I reach this intelligent speech.

In other words, She is the sand, ocean and bronze horizon

That create this beach [ I call Life ]

She acknowledges me as hers

And I acknowledge her as mine

[ Because ] She is the only Woman who sings and dances in my mind.

Nevertheless, I am forced to share her with other thinkers

Who express and impress her through theological and philosophical

Words composed together to form impotent lines.

My Poems are secrets that my

Heart overheard from the conversations

In my head.

Poetry believes in me. Poetry sets me free.

She is that last heart beat before I fall asleep.

Poetry mends my heart when it is torn.

Poetry. Poetry.

Poetry gave me her heart when I was born.

9-15-08