you (but in cursive)
A work of art is what you are
Galileo would look at you and say "you're a star"
I see your body and see the lines
and see your curves and remember the times
that we would sit together with a glass of wine ...
I've never been one to whine
but I do hate that you're not mine
And when I say "mine", please do not think
That I want ownership of you or who you are...
Because when have you ever seen someone control a star,
a piece of light that is so far...
So maybe you are part of the cosmos,
a true intergalactic life form,
my entire heart, soul, and lover, in human form
This poem is about:
Our world