non-sonnet one
By A. T. Halaby
I say, my certain love, I may have
Mistook you for destiny
By force of my heart, the disaster of
Storms weathering away my sight!
Anxious belly thinking about kissing
Pulsing in all of the moments in-between.
The handsome redness of your hair
Excitement in your voice
And direction in each step, take this
Time off my hands and grab mine.
A trick of light in the heart
But ah I believe it all true.
My thoughts dressed up for your summer colors
And I refuse to be like any other.
