Poetry archive from the mental hospital

A portrait of the one i'll never meet

Hurried cursive is his hair
Poems of twisted love colored black

Eroded is his tongue
Like ancient glass turned to pebbles by the ocean's turbulence

Stained glass are his eyes
Turning her fury a buttery yellow

Necromancers are his ears
Listening to what no other allows themselves to touch

Cashmere is his touch
A smile made of cinnamon
Satellites for fingers
Cosmos in his mind

My body in his arms