Just Another Just Love Poem Poem by Joshua Bantum

Without this,
this helpless ability to vent poetics about you,
I would suffer and wither from the inside out,
like a plucked flower decomposing from vein
then to blossom and bud,
then to heart.

But I do,
I do have this.
With a word for each key,
I strike a piano
strung with pages from a dictionary,
and each syllable is a note,
each note is a tone,
and they sound cliche songs of sorrow,

A lonely discourse,
from player to instrument,
from writer to paper,
asking of my art,
as all men finally do,
to display my heart for no other, but you

And although you as a lover
out-stand like the Moon to the stars,
at times you disappear in despair,
and all the others slight glimmer
so unjust in showing nature's body bare.

But I wait through the tiers,
another dawn to night
another dusk to day
it's this cycle I'll fight,
to see you finally come full circle.

Defining the trees for me to climb,
the lavenders sprouting purple
you carve with a shine
your bodies crevasses for me to find,

And like a painter without a muse,
I'm lifeless, sucking blood from a stone,
for I have no ink left,
I have no more passion, no fire,
nor a dash of desire,
to feel this world without the amber
rose burning in the sky,
warming the day, revealing the night.