Yeah, it’s a poem. It was originally written for someone — and I sent it to them, if you were wondering — but I liked it enough to put it up here. I will continue the pathetic story of who it is for later on in this post:

My cupid;
he doth sit upon my pedal,
gasping with my happiness
and flying up with me
in delight.
My cupid is calm,
he is wise,
— though exciting —
and I lust after those words of his
deeper than just
any ole’ love
could go.

Those words
that flow as honey might
from thy lips, sweet
delicate supples that I caress with mine.
Cupid’s wordplay
is a wonderful mix
of accented sarcasm,
and stylish teasing.
Beautiful be
the mind of him,
which thinks so eloquently,
merges with mine
on this peaceful pedal of twine.

In life
we are seperate,
kindred hearts yearning
from thousands of miles
through open air.
My cupid
reaches out to me,
to grasp my hand in his
— skin so warm
and flies me to his heaven.
No clock binds us
and no calling will drag us
from peace.
We will be destined
pasting our souls,
our hearts and bodies
into one being.

Right…So, this is specifically about a guy I met on omgpop. He goes by “C.AR.B.O.N”. Please don’t look him up. No, I don’t want to have his children, or jump his bones — though he is a poet, and that is tempting. He is a 16 (almost 17)-year old guy named Abel, he’s a poet, and he can write some truly amazing stuff.  He is so good at wordplay; to those of you who don’t know my definition of wordplay, it is the intellectual passing of insults/compliments/subtleties, etc between two partially sarcastic, ironic peoples. He and I fit the description, and I find him extremely amusing. He treats me as a gentleman might, which is something I respect infinitely. Too many males in our society have forgotten how to be gentlemen. So many of my own friends, of the male persuasion, have forgotten how to let a lady go first in front of you, or hold the door for her, or stand up at the eating table when a lady joins you. So what if it’s cliche and traditional: it’s flattering. It’s just another way a man can get a womans heart-a-skittering (I make up my own adjectives), so why not?

I like this poem. The whole “cupid” thing isn’t of any love significance; not at all. In fact, it is merely a term of endearment I use for Abel when I talk to him. The first three lines of poetry in sent me in one of our chats, he referred to a cupid (or the Cupid, whatever); so now I call him one. The C.AR.B.O.N thing is not an acronym, and doesn’t have any significance, either. It’s just what he’s called. Kind of like me: kapuwolves. It’s a random assortment of two things I love:

kapu – a wolf in Jean Craighead George’s novel “Julie’s Wolf Pack”


wolves – my very favorite animal.

Simple, and I’m known for it, so I can’t very well change it. If you have an omgpop account, look me up! 🙂 I have 61 friends there already (only one of which I know in everyday life), and we have alot of fun. Kaleb Nation is my friend, and I’ve played HoverCart matches with him — which is totally surreal, considering how famous he is. It’s like playing Checkers with a celebrity. x__x

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