Sometimes
I can't
help
but
to look
at lovers
holding hands
in the street
and wonder
what does it feel like
to be attractive.

			
				Its lonely where you
				sleep
				when I sit there
				watching
				waiting
				for you to come 				
				around again.

You planted your trees
in gentle groves
and watered the seeds
so delicately
Now I behold
the fruits of your labor
and I see
how beautiful your love is.

				Part that curse
				and spawn
				another cosmic angel.

Behind men
the gifts of
enormous love
and casual friends
manifest themselves
in a lunch time smile.

				In life,
				sweet languages
				recall a place
				raw gifted girls
				deliriously dream of