Thief

A short poem

Photo by Oscar Sutton on Unsplash

Your words paint

such pretty pictures

inside my head

It almost makes it easy

to forget that

they are not your own

They do not belong to you

Nor do they belong to me

For how many times

have those same words

that left me in sheer enthrallment

been rehearsed on others before me?

How many times have your lips

curved and your tongue curled

to form beauty and meaning

behind those words?

Does it, perhaps, bring you joy?

Fooling people, like me

Does it give you pleasure?

Taking what is not yours and

claiming it as your own, in order

to dazzle someone else

How you must love to

steal and steal and steal

until the person is nothing

but a shadow or

a figment of the imagination