your passion is my addiction.

i eat your verse
like christmas dinner.

i digest your words,
so that soon, they will
be part of me;
so that soon, they will
have entered my bloodstream
and become a vital part
in keeping me alive.
i digest your words because
i need them to keep me alive.

and your every movement
sends chills to my heart.

every motion you make
commands my attention.
every footfall that you
grace the ground with,
every twitch in your finger
when you brush your hair aside,
you captivate me.
you capture me
and never let me go.

and the sight of you
is another familiar grace.

and i am comforted.
peering into a passionate face,
i am comforted by your look.
when words drip from your lips for
me to ingest, the sight of you simply
turns me to dust and blows me away
in the desert storm that resides
in your poetry.

your life is my poetry.
your words are my heroin.

this hazy existance created by your own
is not worth living otherwise.