The Observer

Putting feelings to words in the way I would look at myself as I were the infinite universe.

The opaque sense I have of my soul

It is like being lost

In a sea of pink diamonds

My search for love is an art lost

To the melancholy sweetness

Of forgotten languages

The space I occupy

Defines an invisibly embedded time  

For I was here 

My quest for connection is as beautiful as

The subtle fragrance of Southern magnolia

In the slight winds of autumn 

The world is my universe an enchantress’s spell

To create the potion for perfect hearts

Second chances and dreams

Author's Note

Fixing where I need a dash/comma. For some reason when I added them it published as a question mark, so ignore where there should be one.