An uncertain dream 

​It’s been a long search 

But I think it’s come to an end 

I’ve found the lady 

Poets rhymed for then. 

She likes to read poetry 

Out loud 

Hear me sing 

To her heart 

Loves to think 

And write 


And never lies. 

She likes to wear 

Clothes in summer 

And be naked 

In rainy Sundays, 

She’s freaky 

A cutie, 

Her arms 

Are literal rhymes, 

Her heart 

Is literature,

Her hand 

Is pure texture. 

She likes to lie

Under trees 

And just be tight 

Covered by my arms. 

She likes simple stuff, 

We dance and cook 

We fuck and laugh 

We drink and smoke 

We love and never feel alone. 

When we feel lonely 


She’ll light me a smoke 

I’ll write a poem 

We’ll hug surrounded 

By words 

And prose

Forget that violence 

Ever existed in this world. 

There’s  a voice out there 

Telling me to wake up 

But this dream is too pure 

To ever be correctly write  down. 


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