Poetry
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I suppose,that in this weather,I would stay the same. Though we were bleeding, together,washing our hands in each other’sunforgiving eyes, nothing could sweep the stains,originating from beneath your feet. I swiped the more rain-soaked strandsfrom covering your face,while I scared the demons awayfrom reliving your momentsyou were ever away, cowering like children do,plagued by thoughts…
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I cannot tell,nor can I remind myselfthe differing aspectsbetween a lake or an ocean,while both are formingat mere eyes apart. I keep believingthat Neptune will have itself,of its own reflection – not mine,not from one who cannoteven see the sun, without burning backwhat I cannot see,when I cannot look back. Lashes. Long scarsupon arms that…
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With greed, with fervor,telling me to devourthe light within your eyes,the sun among your skies,and I’ll hope to undressthose sunset colors, saving droplets, partaking inheated highlights, crossed betweenyour tresses that layagainst your face, your unburdenedshoulders, in theirlowered posture. To residue, atop lakesbrought together for a shipI sail on, I am,returning to what I left, leftoverin…
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Come in, to breathe,nearest to shadows.Realize howdelicate, you are, taking inwhat has been absorbed,from a shrouded history. Having moved, intothis desolate room,to rewrite your nameinto a embracing, silver frame, you were never mentioning morethan everything you abhorred. I have always noticedhow uncertain you were –in closing hands, praying to stars,lifting up oceans, from your eyes,residing…
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Because of oursimilar motions, rowing overfeuding pathways, we havedesigned each otherto capsize another,plunging into deep-red sunsets,reborn glances, breathing in what drowns us,inside those bloodstained kisses. Half-way to trusta lighthouse to guide us,while being half-naked in wherewe find ourselves swimming,while we still sink, and we are always questioningan outcome we saw, before. Are we ever getting…
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Dressed contemptibly,with eyes, drawn at eyelids,artfully sowninto blindness – as you aredreaming of gardens, watering your heartwith facelessness. A note, from history’s coldnesswill keep you open, for more, as to carelessness, to allthat you can afford, I keep you waiting there,folding pages, finding pausesamidst musical sheets. As you fade, as you wadeacross rivers where your…
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Both of uswere gleaming,while only one of uscame to recognizewhich of us,out of all of usfloated higher. Extinguished radiance,at the abandoned onewho fell, from hands to darkness,went far from eyesthat still dropped the stars. To illuminating tearsfrom a burning heart,down to a barrennessspoken of, ignoredfor eons, while it always swallowed wholesomeone’s landscape,breathing in who was…
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Folded pages, with redesigned stages,turning everything into repetition.Finding you within dark curves –those that are shapedinto cloaked farewells. For had youmeant to reword your retreat? Blinded. Being always remindedat this array of renditions,behind a heart that guesses at longing. I believe in only what wasbrought to life, fertilized to receiveits grand place among stars, far…
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Running towardsleaking sunsets – surging crowds,those that blanket us in frost. With winter weighing our backs.With tears, shaped into crystal,ceasing our reflections, are we ever cravingmore than uninterrupted silence? Running towardswhat solidifies ruin.Once, drawn upon plain paper,to become somewell-known abstractionrevealed, from a pairof cursed minds, from a sentenced kind. A trail,one that alwayswent deeper than…
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Without those blocksto surround you, at your doorwayyou remain, reside in openness,losing faith among talkative lips,prayers that wish to be heard, while the emptiness of pageshave lost their purpose for words. Open, in what stays simple, being always carefulin counting your moments,dancing around a cure, to stay closed in what you endure. Open further, though…
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Who nurtures whatconnects, at your breastthat burns at youruncovered portraits?Still-life, in those waters,steering shipsbrought towards a lighthouse, a signal, a thriving flameof your eternal blame. I can laymarble kisses, to yourdying name,while you’ll relight candlesI’ve extinguished, at your endingto a pain you’ve gathered in,like infinite grains. Lifelessness, in me,with your fire more alive,running at this…
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Graying skies,I clean bitternessfrom tables, where heldyour portrait, where often leaptmy heart into a solid frame, to seek your colors. In all things, designed,symmetrical in their outline,details will gatherlike storms of reminiscence,like funerals, where blackis the shade of cravedforgetfulness. Under a tree,I condemn this struggling heart,to hear what little I imagineruns, like blood through veins,in…
Modern Romanticism 