bri-ani

I fell in love with the poet Who could not find the words, I mused with follies That broke my heart, Merely to find passion. My musician's mind, And lover's arms, My artist's hands And female heart, Could not spark his inspiration. We fell to cynicism. We grew to cry without cause. We became brother and sister, And still found little in life. Only words bring us together. Our skeptic eyes See only predictable outcomes, We see only the eventual end In all things except the friendship, That has yet to and never will. So my hand is clasped Within another's, and he knows only That, my poet who can not write, Is my dearest a