Poetry

What is poetry? We are a mouse, wandering aimlessly, seeking passage through its maze Yes, a labyrinth of much more than words 
 Under a verse, 
there are layers of many seasons 
 Precious buried treasures 
 Love letters incognito, 
 in tune to the strings of a kindred spirit 
Thoughts birthing the next stanza 
 The beauty of poetry is, 
we need not to understand her words, 
 one is in want to feel embraced 
for poetry must have mystery, 
 but at the same time, 
we need to feel it breathing in our ear
 Holding our face to its, 
 eye contact confirms each other's wants 
 Yes, poetry is indeed intriguing, and hot
 Its meter is not for the unsteady 
It's metaphor is not mere slapstick shadows in the third verse, It is deep and holds us once we peer into its eyes 
 Yes, corridors leading to many rooms and beds 
 Indeed, 
 much more than words