Love
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I have carved, into you,into your silencea certain cut,one that bleeds without mentionof what you’d do with it, but I knowyour last intentionhad been to crave sensation,had been to return yourselfto bitterness, to resignation. I have heard you,crying for another frail momentto sting you, in its embrace.I had oceans to give you,empires to crown you…
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Modern dualities, our ceremonyof entering into persuading arms,as we are daring –filling our cup with the contentsof each other’s stares. I love, whereas I also danceto these thuds of a heart,familiar to that of bodiesfading with their suddennessof losing balance. We have fallen, in lovewith our own storms.We seek mirrors, while hidingour ugliness, from the…
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She brought her sunlight inside. I could see it, as I wasn’t blinded. I wasn’t hiding from it, because it lifted a merry smile upon my lips. What were any words to say? To this, I can only watch. A flood of bliss departs from my heart in this swelling yearning to fully explore her,…
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A soul keeps cryingfor something that lingers behind,following with a slave’s whipagainst flesh, against a shell.Whose Heaven is what kind of Hellto the perception of bereavement?Someone wants to sufferhere, among limited debris. Can tears forever fall?Can rain forever declinethe life, from cloudsthat shroud the sunshine? No one can find freedom,when leaking their heartbeatsbetween fingertips,like bitterness…
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Unstable. Let the currentflow faster, out fromyour once-consuming eyes.Foundational. A loosened starbrings the void closer,brings the absencea little farther, after I havecollapsed into space. Unable. I am ableto count what goes missing.A unification, a singularitythat streams in a lightless,sightless motion.Your eyes are closed,your beauty has drawn closeto sceneries I have burned, as I am, now,wading…
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How I wishI could sail above these tears,no longer drenched in these fears,instead of lowly wailing forsomething beyond a closed door. A pain keeps setting me aflame,reopening binding veins,not letting me breathe,when I am drowningbeneath floorboardsof memorable rooms, endless,with colors this crude, this senseless, in theirshapelessness. How I yearnto be above the blame,the distancing scorn.How…
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Sometimes, a tearwill let go, at the sightof fallen snow. I wantto keep revivinga stagnant signal,to keep thrivingwhat lives me onin those white clouds,dropping these markson unfolded roads. At times, I’ll screamout, what keeps me loosened,from seams. What has kept mewandering, among such scenes? What else, other thanyour light, that never goes astray,guiding me, between…
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Your sunshinegoes out, in a nighttime shoutto your departing heartthat poked through the sand,finding where teardrops would land. You were the only witnessto these petals that downpourtheir fall, from grace,from this vast spacea garden used to grow.You were, once, that oneto keep me leaning towardsa rising sun, being that oneto live on, to keep opena…
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Another dreamflickers, though it doesn’tflick back on the light,when haze is allto be received, among thisdiluted night. I wrap aroundthorns, to keep me company.I have worded recalled promisesupon fallen snow,awakening to moonlight,withdrawing immaculacyto never show. All I wanted,without senseless comparisonwas a hand upon a feeble heart,to let go of never knowingwhen love would stop glowing.…
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Even thoughthere is evidence, to showthere is a crude aftermathto all this diligence,we still come around,like rocks that dream to float. I lured our eyes here,tempting us, in these hallwayswhere memories might haveturned this around, might have changedthe darkness, where claritycould not be arranged. Hauntings are clingingonto arms, kissing our foreheadslike a scalding fever,reminding usthat…
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“Someone will believe that someone else cannot be prejudiced. Isn’t that to say that this other person is omniscient? Isn’t prejudice just the fear of the unknown, as to know all people, or to be omniscient, would mean to see no differences, and see only similarities?” Modern Romanticism Human beings cope with the idea of…
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For this, beneath,I must be silenced,in holding your head.Both of us are dressedfor the disguised dead. Direst admiration.A complexity, to this designation.I see what took turnsreprimanding itself,finding its spotwith internal stains, because, did no onefind purpose, through to you?Into that one rock, you became,with motionless comparisonof no one and nothing else. I am here, to…
Modern Romanticism 