Yearling

I can hear you sleeping Like a softly penned letter That you plan on keeping Sound asleep next to me Under the ink of a drying sky If I were a wordsmith A creative license To puncture my journals with I would write of the site Under my green poetic eye I'm a yearling A callow school boy In the eyes of love A pallid virgin Just a newborn Barely breathing In the eyes of love I'm a yearling As I share this pathos The smothering poem Breathes in a breath of prose Breathe you in and again Dizzying features of love rush by Cause I'm a yearling A callow school boy