In this story I am the poet You're the poetry.
Is it possible to silence the mind of a lover without losing it? Getting desires fulfilled might satisfy it, taking away its peace.
May the cracks in my heart be the place where I shall plant my tears which would rise in blossoms. If they hit me with stones, I’m going to throw at them flowers. As a sign of celebration. The victory of reason over ego. I’ve risen above it all, on the ashes of my old soul that, as Phoenix, found its way to light up the Universe.
Love is wind for the soul
your hand touching mine. this is how galaxies collide.
She once told me that she stalks me day and night She has me in her feelings and in her sight... Her heart keeps telling me things in the night that she is afraid to tell me in daylight... My heart know that she loves me But life is strange and we never know where two people will end up next Love and soul are not to behold Her eyes speak in unknown words And we continue to drift sometimes nearer and sometimes apart!!
Like a child who saves their favourite food on the plate for last, I try to save all thoughts of you for the end of the day so I can dream with the taste of you on my tongue.
I only wrote prose before I met you. My musings were superfluous and serious as well. But now the words dance with me. I sing with them and we create poetry.
I wanted to write some words you'd remember. Words so alert they'd leap from the paper, crawl up your shoulder, lie by your ears, and purr themselves to you like baby kittens, but it was rainy, so I laid there and daydreamed about you.
The skies bend, the time stops, the lanes move and the fires dance, It can mean only one thing that I am with you. You are enigmatic yet so beautiful that I have lost my sense, You are as immaculate as the unadulterated morning dew And your beauty leaves me in a mystified trance. I do not foresee what you and I will be But I promise to be with you till the rocks keep meeting the sea.
she was completely whole and yet never fully complete
You are the stars hidden by clouds. I know you’re there even when I can’t see you. Your shine peeks out and reaches me in the depths of my soul. Tell me your arms are long enough to reach me across oceans. Tell me someday we will be together, somehow, some way. Tell me that this love we have can survive being together as well as we’ve survived being apart. Tell me we are more than the chasm of our divide.
I fell asleep with your head on my breast My soul laying gracefully on your stable and loving chest
I will speak of love until you go mad and join me in my mad worship of love.
I do not write about love as if I have invented it. I write about love because thoughts of you inspire self-forgetfulness. And because writing about you gives birth to a star. These stars sit inside me where there was once darkness.
I was so blessed. The first person I gave my heart to was an angel who plucked the feathers off his wings and built a nest for it.
Love leaves you empty and full at once It leaves you burning and at peace It leaves you satisfied and wanting more It gives you light in darkness an ember that never cools a song of silence a dream with eyes wide open It flees when it is sought It finds you when you aren’t looking It is magic and it is real
Trick Candle Torches feeding on the dark between the stars a river of ice and fire converge in her chest a kiss like a hot spring, a tongue of embers breath of ash with sparking lips words that crash like the tide and a judge’s hammer a touch like a bed of poppies and spiderwebs hips like the curve of an hourglass and sex pure sex manifested in the flesh a body to take a bullet for I am drunk and drugged, dashed upon the shore of her soul a soul to set the angels and demons to war I am stranded in no man’s land in between her ribs like a madman guardian searching for her womb seeking death or rebirth those bittersweet twins one a flicker the other a trick candle I crawl towards the light
I covet him. His hot body over mine, sweaty and smelling like grass after the rain. I want to live that moment of Eros again and again and again. Never having enough of him, the masculine image of me, a piece of art, unique masterpiece of God, that is calmly sleeping beside me.
Love gives value to the one who loves and not to the loved one.