POEM ONE

It was like I was willingly to invoke a new language, Just so it could trickle down you ears blinded. 
Feeding the inner cord strings, like you'd feed a corn field
All that nourishment had me excited...we were crossing the path of impossible..
they didn't understand that I had to learn to appreciate the rain clouds before I bloomed in the sunlight.
and if I couldn't love my own petals, it would be to foreign to paint the landscape with all and everything God had graced us.
See at that moment in time I felt like we friends more than lovers,
He could make laughter beat through the African drums in the west, yet I was present in the north. 
Cunning in the sense of an eternal swing, feet to short to kiss the ground beneath but always effortless against the wind.
Now I had began to see him as a lover, Evolving on the Earth sphere..
Crafting our own spectacular bubble...
this time his hands were on my waist instead of laying on the inside of my palms...
and i was fine with it, better yet I was in love with the idea of a slow dance,
nothing proper just yearning to be free in his arms. 
This was the art of a bloom, it was constant 
he had become constant too...