I have not seen, <br />nor dreamed <br />that YOU could be <br />a being, <br />not a bubble <br />made of soap <br />that breaks apart <br />at the most miniscule <br />and innocent of times. <br />You held my hand <br />like that of a small boy, <br />you called me flowerboy, <br />but when you placed <br />on my stunned lips <br />that welcome kiss <br />I woke and stared <br />at what was sure <br />to be a flaw. <br />You did not waver, <br />you were clever <br />in your mind, <br />there was no room <br />(you knew) to let <br />the things unfold. <br />You came to give me <br />open season to your heart <br />and we closed wounds <br />to make a home <br />that was both bold <br />and real art, <br />you asked me would I <br />wash your hair <br />(without a comb) <br />and then I shaved your lovely legs <br />with utter care, <br />and little felon <br />who's in charge of tiny eggs <br />sat up each time <br />that words from you <br />prepared for air, <br />roll on the carpet <br />made of true Sicilian hair <br />you said the onus is <br />on us to synchronise <br />so I shall list here <br />that our names will make a rhyme.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rhyme-9/
