A Smudged Painting [9/6/10]

I'm drunk on the words spilling out of your lips,

like a tattered love note

written on a cracked mirror,

reflecting the outcome of myself

that could have been

that would have been

if I hadn't sucked the water out of my chest

and pulled myself out of the mire.

Like an encasing of sheet-rock

over a stumbling confidence,

like glass that has been caressed

not so gently by the sand paper

on the

ocean's floor.....

it takes effort, darling,

to see through

your secretive smile

to visualize

your

trepidations

writhing and screeching

beneath your polished skin.

Let me be your haven

from the howling

cynics in your mind.

Let my steady breaths

smooth the creases

in your brow

and calm the panic

flashing across your

azure eyes

as

my slender fingers course

through

your silky hair

and run innocently down,

caressing your face

as I pull you closer to me.

My cracked lips won't say a word, darling,

but know that my mind does not rest..

that I long to blot out your negatives

and dip the tip

of a fountain pen into

ink bluer than the sky

and remind you

what you mean to me

in a language that emulates

perfection.

For you are the actor

that has forgotten his mask.

And I am the chest that will store your worries.