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Poem
Ink leaks from her veins in riddles,
Words scribbled in mirrored existence, 
Emulating and forming thoughts before breaking,
The floor is her canvas,
Her hands the brush,

She strokes his hair to the lyric of the piano,
The tune of his voice fills her so,
In the midst of night Glints of reflective poetry trickle to her,

Her only light, 
His words in song,
His voice a harp,
Each note a string stroked,
Humming a hymn to entrance her,

Always before her next breath is caught,
His lips, the soft words that are pursed to her kiss,
Steal her heart slowly,
Weakening her, 
Giving her strength all the same,

Intentions lost in the mood,
Each key placed precisely according to the last, 
Searched through the room for the words,
That will open up the next locked door,
But no words will open a silent film,

Caress this beauty with the words misplaced from shaking hands,
In the midst of darkness his feelings shed new light,
Transparent is she to his all seeing eyes,
The depths of her eyes are seen as he is drenched by the knowledge.

She bares thin scars as revealed by her light tears.
He kisses her cheek as he embraces her,
Delicately as this moment is delicate on its own accord, 
In this stand still of a moment

She is fragile, 
Her skin a pale ivory,
She is herself a porcelain creation,

Catch her before she falls apart in your arms, 
Don't let her crumble to scatter in the breeze,
Her lips, the essence of spring, the sakura,
Soft, pink, and sweet. 

Kiss this flower,
Watch her bloom, 
Taking root in your heart,
Casual thorns embedded deep.

He is her muse,
The one that inspires her to tell,
Hardships and longings,
A key to this locked door.

He left through the door,
Her secrets lock replaced,
The jingle in his right pocket lingers,
This melody is played once again.

The song that captivates her is the whisper,
Leading her to await his return,
In silence she'll wait with a black pallet,
Water colors will help her paint her story.

He spills his notes and ink begins to vein her skin,
Blue hues highlight her mood,
His accidents will go on to aspire,
She, his image has become his captivator.
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