Poetry was my thoughts at night,
My sleepless eyes searching behind star-burst darkness,
Insecure, no matter how tightly bound in solitary comfort
My poetry cried out to the unknown.
Poetry was my thoughts in flight,
My jumbled words failing to express,
Insecure in my voice, lacking the foundation of my pen,
My poetry cried out the painfully familiar.
Poetry is my silence,
Your shapely breast pointed under my kiss,
Held in the strength of my embrace,
My poetry read in my eyes when you look into them.