I wonder why they do
Perhaps it is because they don't mind having their finger bitten once in a while
Or maybe they enjoy seeing something eating something else
Poets are funny sad creatures
They linger on long lost dreams
They soar above with their light plumb wings
And tear your skin off with their sharp strong teeth
Poets are sweet dangerous entities
They fall in love with you
The details of you
And the weirdness of you
They see you
Your contours, your shadows
And they make you eternal
Poets take mental notes of your moves
They see when a drop of sauce stains your shirt
They watch when your tongue moisturizes your lips
When you statter, when you cry, when you tell a lie
They hover above your house
And stare through the bedroom window while you sleep
Poets cover you with the thick blanket of the night
Poets sing you lullabies
They deeply care
And deeply don't give a damn
They use your words, repeat your sentences,
expose your faults, tell your secrets
They come bite your neck when you're asleep
and suck your blood until you're dry
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