• Moira

A Poem for My Love

It’s how he made my favorite color

The brown of his eyes,

And the way he made me listen for

The howl of his laugh and the bass in his voice.

It’s how he looks at the world,

Shiny and interesting.

It’s the way he smiles,

A sly smirk or a gorgeous grin.

It’s how he can make any situation light

With a song about trash bags

Or a quip about the crazy in his blood.

It’s the way his crazy matches mine so well,

Just bursting at the seams with

Weird ideas and made up people,

And how you can’t always tell if he believes it,

If he really is mad.

These are the ways he stole my heart.

Who, you may ask?

Why, his name is Captain H. M. Murdock,

Howling Mad Murdock to some,

But I call him my love.


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A Poem?

I found this in my notes and have no idea what it is, so I’ve decided it’s some sort of new age poem I write while half asleep, probably after taking a Benadryl or something. Sam Fox Staring Medium, 2


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