She is the Bluest of roses
and truthful to me.
The Vivre to my Axel
of guttural Joie.
She’s like the sound-wave
that caresses thought,
Fills me with melodies
and reminds me of dreams forgot.
She’s like the trust I place in composer
to play the hand instead of fold her.
Like a letter I seal,
hoping she not nic me again,
She is more than a cut-away.
She is more than a friend.
…
She’s the Best.
♩♯ • ♬♭ • ᴀᴄᴛ♮
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