I love you, poetry, because you are mine. You belong to me like my breath, my blood, my bones. I adore the way you flow, a river over cold smooth stones, and how you dip and drop ten thousand miles to the ground you fall, fall, fall, letters flying through the sky. Words shooting through the night, and when the right one finds me, I breathe and come to life. Poetry, my goddess laying down to be adored, I love you for what you give: these words prove that I lived.
Note- This was written for Poetry Thursday.