She said she wrote,
and I was
kind of floored
because her eyes burned bright
enough to remind me
of mine
any time we mentioned
her penchant to soar
with a rhyme.
But she said she'd given it up
for a while
and that's when it hit me:
her thoughts were too precious
like her lips,
to not be kissed
by a stanza.
And so quickly I urged
her in that direction.
I hope soon she's empowered
to shower her vision
upon the dry tongues
that, in sweet submission,
will welcome the rain.
A veil lifted
for the world to lock eyes
with her gaze...