Time disappears
The blurry becomes clear
The power of writing poetry
Almost immortality
As much as any human could be

Is it invisibility
If you can sometimes see
A shadow of me
Worse or better
I can’t say
Since you choose to look away
I suppose I’m still happy
That someone might see
And they feel me
Inspirationally
I describe
What they feel
If I was a toy
That would make me real

Tolerance
Doesn’t speak loud enough
It doesn’t defend itself
It simply exists
Quietly

I’m probably s’posed to write you something for Valentine’s
You are mines
Quirky as it be
It means something to me
As such I hope for you
A day spent with love so true
Whoever she be
Though not me
I hope today you see
True love
So completely

So how’s this Valentine stuff work
Must it be a mutual deal
Or can I claim you as my Valentine
If to you it isn’t real?
From afar, unbeknownst,
Someone sending love notes
Every single day
Obviously, whatever the time
You are my Valentine
I don’t have to be yours for you to be mine

Poetic justice
Time dismissed
Sometimes it happens
A century after
One’s written it
Is that still justice?

I recognize the alchemy
Of the unseen
It exists independently
Connection clean
Or *****
Who knows
What it be
Nobody
Unless we see
Maybe it’s only me
Who needs to see
In which case I apologize
Profusely