TO A 27 YEAR OLD SPARK
Am I enough? Asks the young girl.
Enough. Says the young boy.
You light the fire inside of me with your beauty.
I cannot hold my heart without burning myself.
My mind is eared, my soul is scorched.
Feed the flames, feed them.
You own what you ignite.
Don't fight the blaze, embrace it.
Consume until we are embers.
TO A 27 YEAR OLD SERAPH
The artist emerges from his cave
He is ready, he is sure, he is blessed
He is touched, he is loved, he is graced by
You
You who reminded him it is angels he is drawn to
Truly you are an angel
Since he laid his eyes on you he knew you were divine
Fallen but divine, or divine because you are fallen
Do not be afraid to spread your wings
He wants to fly with you
Do not make him fly alone
He could never forget you
He could never forget a miracle
But he cannot stay in place much longer
Him, not of this Earth
And you, heaven sent
The artist rises to new heights
Is it your voice in his ear
Or the echoes of your love
Please pick yourself up
He cannot lift your wings—they are too powerful
He can only dust them off
Join him in the light
Bring the peace