beauty

bottle neck squeezed me for the last shine. Didn't need it but took it. Better than one more useless song hitting the street. Lyrics were burping as I tried to bridge your beauty with my words. Could I cut the rope and float down your running river? In the spinning eddy I found I was truly lost. Could I kiss that jaw? Could I lend a lean shoulder to your cause? Would you know that this not your poem? As I repair to some semblance of a man, I am torn down by such beauty. Burn I must, I suppose. Not a hand does this one reach for, merely casting stones into such a clear stream. Your hair tied up, your glistening eyes, your Maker's, your pin stripes, your too cold shoes...allow me to write you a song. One such as you deserves a song of their own. I will sing that song beauty.