In this stressful time of finals week and the general chaos of weird men, I wanted to post my dearest friend's poem. All of his poems are so passionate and truly glorious to read. You can check him out at ponderingponders.tumblr.com. Any time I am feeling any sort of negative emotion, I turn to his poetry, and I hope you can too. He picks out the tiny details in life and makes them magnificent. Alas, this is his poem to me, written a while ago.
The Dancer
Amidst so many dancers,
she is always the one
to whom I return.
She is an extension,
knowing the exact place
I wish her feet to land.
She is an addition,
of a beauty and a grace
I could only hope to see.
She is a mystery,
with natural flourish
and unnatural charm.
She is a whisper,
floating around the floor,
leaving her gentle kiss.
She is a dancer.
But more, she is the dancer,
the best I know;
The one whom
I will always return too,
the eye of the storm;
But the one whom
I will never fully understand,
the beautiful green pool.
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