Tag Archives: kiss

best.

a warmth,
i’ve never felt;
and a deep love,
from the kindest
heart.

a brilliance,
that challenges me.
and a deep love,
from an exuberant
heart.

a comic,
that lightens me.
and a deep love,
from a patient
heart.

a creative,
that inspires me.
and a deep love,
from a vulnerable
heart.

a calmness,
that soothes me.
and a deep love,
from a generous
heart.

a soul,
that understands me.
and a deep love,
from a kindred
heart.

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dear.

dear one.
i didn’t know,
i still don’t know;
but you show me
in every moment.

dear one.
if i could
collapse into you,
i would
in every moment.

dear one.
i’m afraid.
but you keep
close to me
in every moment.

dear one.
your patience
is unwavering.
and i’m so grateful
in every moment.

dear one.
let’s laugh and play
and cry and sing
and kiss and dance;
in every moment.

dear one.
i will hold your
love with grace
and tenderness
in every moment.

dear one.
i can only offer
a tattered, broken heart;
but it is warm and yours
in every moment.


( k i s s ) .

i’ve got no words,
but if you were here,
i’d be kissing you right now.


write.

i could write
about you,
but it wouldn’t
be true.

all i have
is moments of clarity,
moments of pure bliss.
cliche upon cliche.

i don’t remember
a time,
when this part
of my heart
felt so damn calm.

how to write
about you,
when there’s no horror
or pain.
no worry or fear.

how to write
about you,
when you offer
nothing but reassurance
and peace.

how to write
about you,
when i’m occupied
by the thought of you
in every moment.

i wake up
smiling.


cut time.

time
relentlessly
cuts me:
stop.
back.
end.

play it
again
or make it
stop.

do it
over
or turn
it back.

keep me up;
up
or make it
end.

i want
for one thing
only:
stop time
for us,
take us back,
or make it
end.


bed.

kitten kisses
and fluffy
warmth.

each week
is a countdown:
one of seven
two of seven
three of seven
four of seven
five of seven
…weekend.

bed.
warmth.
silence
but for the
mewing
of my
cosy friend
who wants
for nothing
but kitten kisses
and fluffy warmth.


trademark.

that was a hard
thing to do.
like always,
this paradox
of wanting
something
so badly
that in the end,
i don’t want
it at all.
the loss when
it is over
is not as deep
as i used to feel.

the surprise
is your trademark –
it happens now,
or not at all –
and i always
wonder
if part of you
hopes to miss
the chance
for complexity.
like the forlorn
longing is worth more
than confused frustration.


force ii.

sometimes,
she forces herself
to laugh,
even when nothing
is funny;
because it makes
it seem
like it could be.

sometimes,
she forces herself
to eat,
even when everything
is tasteless;
because it makes
it seem
like it could be.

sometimes,
she forces herself
to let him,
even when nothing
feels right;
because it makes
it seem
like it could be.

sometimes,
she forces herself
to endure,
even when everything
goes numb;
because it makes
it seem
like it could be.


222.

like cricket,
except more
like golf.

is it okay
to hold
you up?

i see
your face
so vividly.

is it okay
to draw
my inspiration?

i see
it everywhere.
i see you.


emancipation.

i mean, don’t
quote me on it.
i’ll never
trust that
it is the real thing.

i couldn’t
tell you
what the signs are.
i just couldn’t
tell you.

i mean, don’t
quote me on it.
but i’ll never
forget the pain
or the nausea.

i couldn’t
tell you
what the signs are.
i just couldn’t
tell you.