The puzzle

The puzzle

He talks to me in poetry and romantic song lyrics.
His messages hidden like a word-find paperback from the local drug store.
I'm searching for letters that form a word amidst the chaotic and structured puzzle.
I turn to the answer appendix in the back of the book. There is none. There are no clues to his intentions.
I attempt to circle the lexicon he leaves for me in his cryptic scribe.
I read the circled words out loud. They don't form a cohesive sentence.
Word salad nonsense forms mixed up confusion in my heart.
His words scrambled like that game on my phone.
Trying to put them in order before the timer reaches zero.
It's black and white, dark and light all at once.
My intellect is stimulated and inspired, yet his lack of touch has left me wanting, waiting. My skin dry and cold like the Colorado winter.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

what a great metaphor used here...love those word finds for some reason...but the ones i work, fortunately have an answer that makes sense.
Love of the lack of it never seems to make too much...and your last two lines show that you really know how to wrap up a poem with strong intention.

[Jennesis]

I know right? I like things to make sense! Thank you so much Jacob! I admire you immensely...