so pensive my
pen, leaving wistful
impressions while her
beauty contemplates upon
whimsical reflections, like
intersections the way
she interjects my
mind, a resuscitation
of the imagination
destined for these
lines, a writer’s
dream deferred, patiently
placing every word,
safely connecting to
her inner most
soul, those innately
behaviors, exhilarating like
constellations that bring
transformation, a nightfall
for a destiny
unknown, i can
hear her heartbeat,
drums of a
melody so sweet,
like molasses this
southern dialect of
mine, and how
the intervals of
her heartbeat seem
to be soul
e connected to
mine.
-e.