Fishing

Why does everyone 

Say I am a great catch when

He never caught me

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Weeds

Scatter my seeds in your soul

And ask me to flourish without water or light.
Pull extras that you can do without.

And foundation for regrowth
Weed me out as if I was a nuisance 

Instead of a wildflower. 

We Were Friends

We were friends before he used my words to charm me. He uttered sweet syllables through the distance. A flirtatious, friendly-fire that left me speechless.

We were friends.

We were friends before he heard my voice; before he registered the peaks and valleys of my tone. He held my heart before he owned it, wrapped it firm into his chest and protected it as if it were his own.
Friends.

Friends
Before he would know the smooth curves of my back. Before he breathed me in and knew the zest of my sweat and the breath of my hair. Before he lifted me to know the weight of my chest.

Friends…
As he charms me with my words, my smile knows no return. His voice produces a pulse for my existence. I hum to his haiku and surrender my friendship to his frontdoor. We swept the semantics of romance under the rug of suggested realities. Slowly he begins to know my taste, recognize my voice and remember my scent. Through the distance, he reaches for my hand as I’m falling for his heart.
We were friends.