Never trust a poet’s words
a poet sees what isn’t there
Colors
that you thought were true
are blended with a poet’s flair
for beauty

In unguarded places
in stolen hours
in broken faces
he writes his letters of enchantment

Fantasy
born of love or loss
Memories
that are not his own

But even then,
the words he pens
wrap themselves so lovingly
around your mind
that even though you know
the poet’s words are lies
you believe

And therein lies the magic

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