The Painter

I paint with words
A loaded head run free on paper
An origami heart

Apologies, valentine
You will have to make do with these decorative excuses
They are all the words I have

I have tried to paint you
But cliches follow me
I can sketch the universe, but not you in it

Perhaps it is because, for me, you have no limits
Our love has no boundaries
I cannot paint an ending

Us, in the Heat

I marry you in the mud, and a saucy orange comes over us,

Hot pink and rude burgundy.

On a sweaty summer's dusk we watch the night birds rise,

Wing beats on rain in our secret jungle.

The sentient mountain guards us,

Cutting the sodden air with his cap.

Your skin is moist and magical,

Let’s make love with the stars watching.