Yours cryptically,

I talk better in rhymes than I speak in conversation, precious
My charm works better when my anxiety is hidden well, behind the limited dexterity of my fingers,
These lines, they sell an idea of me sometimes far removed from the uncertainty of myself,
And the words take shape better than I, to ask you with quiet confidence for what we may seek.

But when my fingers fade away,
And the conditioned brilliance dwindles,
When well practiced eloquence is replaced by feverish lines on a broken crutch,
And an identity rooted in myriad confusion fogs away the last bit of verbose illumination  ...

Would you still be enamored to know that I'd be a train wreck that's yet brighter than a star or two?
Maybe go out walking by the lake and find out what makes me tick?
Take a swim in my mind that is seemingly deeper than most care to dive in?
And would you care to decorate yourself in there whilst I watch you pick away with wide-eyed wonder?

For I talk better in rhymes than I am clear in conversation love, but do bear with me ...
You'll soon appreciate that I'm far more distinguishable by my silence
And if you must wish, you could have that too.

Stranger

I love it when we're strangers babe,
I love the fascination we have with what we don't know,
I'd trade this familiarity in a heartbeat,
For I hide my flaws behind a veil of mystery.

I love it when we're strangers babe,
Knocking down shots of tequila with a glint in our eyes,
I'd do us one better and tell you a joke,
Whilst you are still mindlessly receptive to the dwindling brilliance of my wit.

I love it when we don't know each other, gorgeous,
For it charms the life out of the lies I have ready at the corner of my tongue
All the while, while I pretend to be fascinated by the idea of you,
Whilst I'm terribly ignorant, drunk and desperate  for anonymous loving.

I love it when we're strangers babe,
Cause we may cut each other wide open like landscape,
And amuse ourselves with all the booze, banter and sex,
While we totally throw oblivious at how we may grow to despise each other with burgeoning familiarity.

I love that we're strangers babe.
And isn't it like a pretty gash on the vein that bleeds away ...
That when I do really get to know you,
Your fascination of me will flush itself in the confines of that pretty fucking mind.

A Muse Me

Loosen those locks love,
I like it when you let your hair flow,
Let me pick your brain,
The whiskey is abandoning my reason
So before it completely strips me to the bare threads of myself,
Let me in, inside that head, that, which the travails of man seems to forego in baser pursuit of the flesh,
Allow me there, where your darkest desires and your brightest flashes dance embracing your intricateness,
Let me in, love, while you move like droplets on a leaf, with cruel clairvoyance of my existence in your head,
Armed with practiced mischief and subtle arrogance about my whimsical dwelling;
Show me your songs and sing me some bars while we dance away each other's vibrations together in our little heads,
All the while, whilst looking into mine eyes with clandestine clarity
And remember me for who I am when we're this intimately platonic about our adoration,
That it scares me

That once the whiskey takes over, I'll be just another muse for your nights, intertwined in clumsiness and lust.

To Be

Be in wonder.

On those mornings where the rising sun is a little more than an alarm clock for the daily grind.

Be in wonder.

Of people, constantly evolving and reinventing themselves despite being circumspect to limitation and judgement.

Be in wonder.

Of things that humble and lay there with your humility stripped wide open.

Be in wonder.

Of love, and her many intricacies that follow no whimsical need of logic.

Be in wonder.

Of rum, cigarettes, coffee, sweet perfume and the blunt that goes by

Be in wonder.

Of things you understand and be in awe of things that understand you.

Be in wonder.

Of the sins of the flesh, for your habits are the only thing real about you. Indulge me.

Be in wonder darling, and if you're not drunk with the madness of your amazement, at that exact moment, be real.