Drawn


To him, I am drawn:
like a violent ocean wave,
struggling to reach the shore of a calm beach.
Like a wave, I too wonder,
lost in a vast and seemingly endless sea--
a sea of nothing and everything,
possibilities and impossibilities,
a wave that crashes into clarity
before thrashing into confusion,
searching for even the smallest hint of shore,
a place to pause in rest before the savage sea pulls me back in.

To him, I am drawn,
for he is the calm beach to my chaotic sea.
His smile is like a gift from the universe,
created for the pivotal purpose of taming my tortured soul.
His voice is like a light rain in the midst of a rain forest,
perfectly suited to soothe and calm my feral thoughts.
And then there are his eyes--
too perfect to be real, but too real to have been fabricated
by anything less than a god,
a perfect collaboration of blues and greens!
The rings around the black holes
that are his pupils are like an invitation,
to let them pull me in, never to let me go.
To him, I am drawn,
and so I accept the invitation,
and the black holes inside his eyes lead me to paradise.

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