Mom told her to never fall for a poet
For his eyes would draw you in like a nat to the scorching light
And he would open eyes to the world unseen before him and I
Don't fall for him she said
Fore if you break each other's hearts
Your flaws will become his art
And his pen will stroke the blank canvas of the crumbled paper he had no intention of dismantling
Your arguments will become inspiration for his writers block he's been handling
and he will wrap you up in subliminal metaphors and words you don't know the meaning of yet he will touch parts of you that he could never reach with his fingers
And then She remembered
Mom said "don't fall for a poet baby"
Because he will speak a language foreign to you
And language that you don't know the meaning of
Yet whenever he hits you with a line it fills you up
And for a moment you understand why his mind is racing and those stuttering sentences is his way of communication all of the things he can never say in a normal conversation
But this is his way of communicating
Everything you need to know about him is spoken in his poetry
Don't fall for a poet please
Because his words will hold you, and promises to make love to you through the double entendres and the metaphorical foreplay
He's made love to you through each stanza
And the longing question that needs an answer
why can't you love a poet
Because,
His words will touch before his finger does
His voice will make you fall before he even gets the chance to catch
But his words will catch you
And comfort you before he can wrap his arms around you.
Mama said never fall for a poet,
But I said nothing about falling for me.