Love Poem
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I live. Your streaming fingerstrace veins where should be scars,pass along scars where should beyour hollow kisses.I keep connecting youto those long pathwayswhere I deserted old photographs,where I left those notesthat described all your details.I want, though cannotbury you, again, in a heartmade to somehowkeep beating. You are cemented in corridors,added as each blockto build
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And what seat have I placed myselfWhen beside me, seats only a space?My Queen had bledA drop of melted snow into the soil,And its color was red. For a King with his vulnerable selfIs merely a man. I dreamed sweetness, of softnessBefore the morning arose,And when it died,I imagined the sun as your rising face,Delighted
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Fall upon me with the world apart,And I will offer you a word,To see you married, to see you gladlyDressed in the adornments befittingElegance of all its domain. People do not know, the pleasures we makeOf each other.People will not know, the symptoms we create,That race forever.They will not ever see the subtlety of love.
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Raise a smile,Why don’t thee,And show me, so that I may see,Your happiness and tranquility.Though, a character as yours,One that fully endures,My entertaining of a bit of difference,A side to me, deserving restraint,Deserving compliance with sense. I do not deserve to see you any different,Than to have the character of one woman,Whose attitude and posture
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Upon the day when you arrive,Adorned in something fragrant,Dressed in something treasured,It could be only love between, the threads of a garment,The threads of a worn heart, of a torn heart,That I’ve promised to mend,So much alike the garments, I’d do away with,So much alike the pain, I’d do away with. Upon the day when
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Love is a wing, and I have been caressedBy it, by the hip that I hold,By the lips, bold in red. By the few lashes that extend far from eyesThat are tinted in bluish contrast. Beloved, so loved you are, beneath me,As I am above, I see you,Your face and your eyes, and your breastCurves
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Fall down to ask,What will come to be,And lay down to bask,In the warm waters of fallen tears,Hurled from Heaven, laid in untold truths.You have sympathies growing large,And held memories upon a swollen shoulder.My eyes do see,What is meant to be,A beautiful memory.One beautiful memory kept ahead,So pleasantly. I light the way for us to
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The breeze between each lash,Above thy gentle eyes,Moves to and fro, above those glistening tears.Oh, how beautiful it all reveals itself,Alike the vulnerability above your chin,Where waters dribble from your nose.The love we’ve expected to see,And survive within,Has collapsed entirely,Upon our decaying forms. We are like two crosses without the Saints,Alike two spaces of only
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Death has made you majesty,While I weep aloud melodies.I once saw the weeping sky, and now,I weep strewn tears to your closed lids.I once brought my hand out an open windowTo feel the droplets,And now,That sky has closed, along with yours.A sky has been buried, and shut,Your eyes, and above. There is dew along the
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My dear, you’ve kept building what ought to be thrownFrom the highest precipice,To the furthest ocean,And rent apart by waves acting as hands.Hands from God, hands from Satan,We are beloveds, always in arms, though I am angered.I am angered by a world,By a world that knows to seizeLove, at every opportunity,And replace it with the
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God adores thee, as He sits beside me,Upon my dying bed of agony.My disease has been this welded momentWelding my heartstrings through themselves.Breathe into me,Your life, as a kiss,God will hold thy feeble hand,For I am an old man,With many sorrows.And you are His woman, His nuptial being. God has loved you more than me,God
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In love with an aroma,That comes from arms that dance in the sun.In love with cheeks,That sprout alike the moon, when full.In love with strands of hair,That rain upon shoulders and neck.Though, I am in love with lips,That bloom the boldest color. I am in love with lips,Breathing with the exhaustion in repeated sighs,Designed by
Modern Romanticism 