I wish I wrote you.
The syllable count
of your facial features is perfect.
The way your hair flows rhymes
with your glances.
Your clothes fit
like tightly lined up stanzas
and when I read the words
with my lips
I find the meaning underneath.
I wish I wrote you,
but I am no such wordsmith.
I memorize you
so I can recite you whenever I want,
keeping you on my breath,
I always have your taste swirling in my mouth,
permeating my tongue.
When I pray
your lyrics
bleed into my words.
I speak with divinity
through you.