I call this, “my muse”

This world is filled

With moody poets

Let’s break the curse

And put an end

To

Self-indulgent

Tragedies

The Shakespearean

Beating of my iambic heart

Wants to know…you.

And let our

Lips

Do the dance

That hands have perfected

And…touch

In a way only those lost in the

Waters of love would appreciate

This deep oceanic plunder

Surely only the thirst-quenching

Rhythmic pentameters of true desire

Can only be found in the arms of lovers

This

Is a love story of the ages

That

Not even the likes of the bard could conjure