You have a way of surprising me. Your show-stopping eyes… I swear that it’s still; it’s a painting. You’re a piece of some marvelous artwork. When I least expect it, you walk into the room and just glow
heaven’s pure white light.
The life in your face
The sun’s tender kisses on your skin. I didn’t know you could almost be my tone.
Who are you, who are we?
You have an uncanny ability
To leave me breathless.
That stark white collar against the back of your darkened neck. An unexpected bolt of lightning electrifies my heart. You look back for a split second, and stagger at my golden hue. I’m glad I could do it to you. Glad you could see it too. I always thought I could outshine you, but you out-did me boy. I’m stupefied. With those shimmering stubbles framed around your nape,
(Can I touch it?)
That look of utter demand you carry. Do you want me to say something?
Standing before me. Made of sleek, smoking ice
Making me burn
Dancing, at your feet.
It seems like the key to subliminal happiness is being honest with yourself and letting yourself express a wide range of emotions and curiosities in different forms– in arts, in reflection, in everyday talks. Even expressing sadness can make you inherently happy.
Dancing just happens to be one of the mediums.
Zinging mountain breeze
Slapped into my face like some game of
Mischief and cacophony.
Dancing on the hilltop like a happy child
And sharing jokes with local friends like they’re the answers to a life worth living.
It’s a prestigious world out here in the boonies
Where I’m sworn in, like some captain of some imaginary ship
or better yet, like the Queen of the World,
or a monk, or a monkey.
Nothing matters up here
So forget the rest down there.
As the queen of the nomads and the mountain birds
I hereby rule
That we party all day.