Tacoboy013 - Local Idiot.

She's on my mind.

She got there through the ear canal.

She's in my heart.

I think she got there through the lungs.

Joke

I asked Siri a question and she told me, " I don't know! Who the fuck I look like!? Google?"

The flowers do listen, like butterfly kisses. Along the wispy road.

Their crowns to the air, those ne'er-do-wells. With colors brighty shown.

No petals are broken, no fragrance unspoken. Barefoot along the path.

They sip morning dew, in gowns with deep hues. Their toes along the bath.

Slowly they sway, the wind combs the days. Away with gentle brush.

Each one a sister, the truth they do whisper. But lower than a hush.

Screams of the city,

after autumn rains,

fills my heart,

if only for a moment.

Title: Love in the Time of Coronavirus

Medium: Digital Camera

Artist: Local Idiot

I grow tired of my poetry.

It's all that you will know of me.

It really hasn't grown on me,

when I read it in my mind.

Her beauty was as rare as counting to infinity.

Exponential in grace.

Equal parts predictable to irrational and a dash of paradoxical.

But still she contained all the answers to the universe if one just cared to do the math.

We loved with such difficulty,

We loved with tremendous struggle,

But it was always with great pleasure.

I only will love you - to the end of your lips.

And immediately stop - right after this kiss.