Because Sometimes I Want To Write a Freaking Poem

Be still my dove 

I have things yet to be spoken 

An entire lexicon of words I’ve built for you

Ways to describe the turning of your mouth 

And the pull of your eyes 

But you keep using those things to see and speak 

How can I ever marbleize you if you go on being 

There will be nothing left for me to idolize 

You were so perfect in your distant silence 

But now your veins are flowing with a passion unexpected and it distorts you 

Disfigures the perfect image I have crafted of you 

Leaves me wanting none of you

How cruel can you be 

To ruin you for me 

An unfortunate turn of events