Body Language

If words are stars, then

Constellations lay under my skin.

Like on a cloudy night, 

Words often hide from sight.

But a poem is a crisp clear evening,

A telescope introspectively peering, 

An intimate invitation, 

To analyze my specific human condition. 

If I invite you to look at my constellations, 

Remember, it will reveal my frustrations, aspirations, and devastations. 

At first it may look beautiful 

But my flaws are plentiful.

So, read the words I scrawl,

Watch the stars fall,

And know that all of these verses 

Are the clearest picture beneath my unclear surface.