You know how exit signs are bright and red and at times we’re blind to what’s behind? The doors are just subliminal metaphors that lead us through life. We never know, but we take a chance and open it.

Some oceans make sense. Most do not. Become the difference.

I loved you with texture. You loved with a softness. Texture brought detail, softness brought folds. Folds brought creases and creases had secrets.

We were as big as the ocean, but as fragile as an ego.

You were a rhyme who mattered, a being who slipped all too often.

You were like fine wine, but cheap wine gets you drunk faster.

They leave to test the waters but fail to realize the waters are full of rapids.

I was the fire to your ice, the only snake eyes you ever rolled with that dice in your mind.

I have drafts about your neck on my lips like a library has shelves. It was all in vain and you were all in my veins.