Dear Poetry,

I've been having a love affair with you for a whileAs I grew, I went to your shows - secret rendezvous - and slams like one night standsI had private moments where I'd bare my all onto the page,Deliciously overwhelmed like a feen who cravesThat one, secret, precious addictionAnd the only time I ever truly feel naked is when someone else isreading my soulEach word as evidence to the sleepless nights when verses unfoldWhen lines are bent and molded into my masterpieceThe rhythm of every lyric matches my own heartbeatAnd my spirit sings along to the beautiful song that marks my affair with you, poetryWhen I look over the finished work, it's like staring into a mirrorI check to dot every "i" and cross every "t" until my inner self is pleasedWith the piece I've marked in ink on the paper leafIt's only then I can release that breath and feel the libertyAnd I know it's a little risky to show much of me, butWe all do strange things for love