my poet.

my poet doesn't write me poems,
his dreams spill out of paintpots
onto white emulsioned canvases.
all art is poetry.

he doesn't write me words,
instead he plays the sound of his kisses,
using the romance from the keys of a piano.
all music is poetry.

the rhyme lies within his talent,
our lust is what creates inspiration.
and his genius is borne out of my love.