He Speaks (THEORETICALLY?)

I love the way he speaks, 

With a voice so rich and deep.

He moves me, like the iwnd moves the trees, with a breeze,

a constant cadence of highs and low lows

My God, with every word he so-sows

I think I'm in love, he captivates my so-soul with

I's after E's except before C's, my boat is now rocked on

A plain so uneven, contrary to belief, this feeling is keeping me from overturning

capsizing my theoretical boat taking a trip to my theoretical castle, surrounded by my theoretcial

moat.

I guess some things just aren't real?

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 

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