In your words, is she even a beauty.
And if you don't die trying,
Are you even a poet?
Her beguiled smile if it doesn't
Break you and the arrogant poet
In you doesn't stay pissed over
The mad lover you're-
For not letting him write.
The euphoria and self-inflicted
Pain- holding each other's hands,
If they don't pull you apart.
Is it even a state of mind?