Crown

I fell off the edge on the world this morning, reaching for the star you wanted me to name. I told you that it's name was "crown" and some day I would hand it back to the princess from which it fell, but his will is growing faint so I must add myself to the collective. But promise me one thing... one thing my love, cry not. If you must, turn from me. It would feel as if I died over and over for every tear I couldn't wipe away.

The Subject Of Love

There are many poems on the subject of love.
My heart decided to add to the list. Do I start where it began? Or do I begin where it ended...

Ah, the smell of her perfume as it filled the air assured that she was beside me always, but when the day came where I was to proclaim my affection, I was without words... without logic. Slipping thru my grasp my metacarpals flexed, but then relaxed. Relaxed! A time where I should have said, "Don't Go!" but I was without words... without logic. Words, when you say them, could be three fourth sincerity, and one quarter novelity, or it could be deafened to the sound of a one sided beating heart.

There are many poems on the subject of love,
My heart decided to add to the list.
It started where it began, and it again will be the play my character is looking for.