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and the less you show
you care about me
the more I do
I am in love again
grossly, deliciously
infatuated with the idea
of succumbing,
gaping
to a higher power
is it acceptable
to feel this way
about God?
I wonder
if you will ever forget
how it feels
to love
to be loved
to be touched like this,
even once
then I remembered
there are footprints on the moon
a butterfly, resting among moths
need not open her little wings
to prove her beauty
the moths, oh how they wish
the moths, oh how they know
"... it became easier
than breathing,
giving him more
than I gave myself."
- not a poem about you
all of me
is what it takes
every
solitary
day
to remain whole
while the fire
hurting at my center
and reaching
threatens with the promise
of explosion
the kind of lover
who sits on the floor, rocking
a sweet guitar melody
drifting
and crying a little, with a smile
just thinking
about the depth of affection
welling up, inexpressible
and spilling across my sight
with a prayer
that all timid hearts
can know how it feels to
tread these invisible waters
and cry with a smile,
make your music, soft
think of your love quietly, and smile
for you,
I would give my last breath
the sight from my eyes
every drop of blood, and the promise of
immortality
but I never will, for I am
sadly, too afraid to ask
if that would be alright with you
if my bleeding heart in your hands
would be enough
is a kaleidoscopic wonder
trembling at the edges,
every time our eyes meet
the relieved sigh of creation
is the sound
heard beneath twilight, when we are one
and even after we collapse
into ourselves
to meet the everlasting ocean
we will be, still
swimming in
the universe of us
photo: a very blue Pass-A-Grille beach sunset, april 2017
I stared
at the word “love”
in the dictionary
its meaning,
and found it muted,
a voice singing, but
through a wall
and it said
“a quality or
feeling of strong
or constant affection…”
and it's clear
someone tried, but
I doubt it
could ever describe as much
as all the broken hearts
of the world
could tell you,
without words