There are poems within you the world can’t handle.
There are phases of the moon your heart hurts to watch pass.
There are fires starting deep under your diaphragm
that we are all terrified to watch.
There are volcanoes in your eyes when you speak of him.
There are tiles of mystery scattered on your cheeks.
There are bits and pieces of your soul you have never known
but will unwillingly discover.
Mystery
Porcelain Prose 