The Nymph

You’re beautiful but oh so distant.

When I think of your body, I think of you swaying silently to the music.

Your soul intertwined into every sound of the beat and the rhythm.

I thought of you yesterday and today just as I thought of you back then.

You are to my touch, the trembling of trees as like leaves; you fall in love with me.

You remind me of the very version I wish to be of myself.

The very muse of my soul’s songs.

The very cause of my my poetry.

The power of my words at play whether they sound repetitive, vulgar, belligerent, insane or even more than psychotic.

You are the target; the object of my flesh’s desires.

I can’t seem to have you though the thought is probably just a dream.

Let distance make yourself fond enough for you to dream of me.