The Flesh

A dream is a dream unseen

For I can't unsee it again;

And what are the lies of the flesh

When the flesh is something we can't resist?

If you desire to come against me

I guarantee you won't win,

There's so much going on

I want the sun to make noise

I want the moon to make love

Is there a distant flesh in the air?

Oh the valiant poetry, it forms all things

I want to be drawn to your love

What makes the flesh so powerful

When there is power in love?

I speak for all poets

When I say love is rare

Because the rarest love is present

And I am bound by love,

And here are some pretty flowers to obtain

Upon the flesh

And here is a book about love

Yet will you read it?

And when the sun comes up

Will you think of me?

Will you think of me in the flesh

Or will you think of me in the present?

I love you far more than you think

For my flesh is my flesh

And my word is bound

To the prettiest of things,

And beauty is just a facade

Yet making love to the facade is vain

These words I own

And these words are not for the unknown,

I long to cherish you

Like a flower.