"A Poem's Identity"

“A Poem’s Identity”

As you sit before me, you are dressed in nothing but black and white.

I admire your face, that explodes with written words pouring out of your pores; giving off a reflection of bright light.

Holding you in my hands, your skin is rough like bark from a maple tree, but your weight is light like a feather that calms me.

You are the love of my life, the answer to my questions, the thoughts on my mind, and the strength to my weak.

You make me smile, you make me laugh; you even make me cry, but you can’t even speak.

Your deaf to me, and you know it too, but oh your soft voice sings in my head like the sweetest melodies.

If your sides grew out arms and the end of you sprouted legs my love for you would come rushing out, oh so desperately.

But nothing of that matters, arms, legs, not one finger can comfort me.

As I speak your name, Poem, a smile creeps upon my face and then I realize without you none of my pain would be erased.

Your face displayed upon pages of words, nobody but you in the room, and everything else is a blur.