My love is a love that sees me. Our lips, they are, duality. Speaking the sounds of our heartbeats wanting. They dance, quiver and fold; sometimes even touching.
By Mama Magdaleneabout a year ago in Poets
in memory of the soul she was before, that foolish, hopeful girl who met a boy, became a broken corpse washed up ashore, for he shattered her trust, destroyed her joy.
By Mallory Roseabout a year ago in Poets
The voice that shaped my childhood spoke in fire, Each word a brand that seared where trust should grow. I learned to hide beneath the thinnest wire,
By Oula M.J. Michaelsabout a year ago in Poets
I know by chance of lands akin to these, That on a darkling plane do co-abide. (A sadness lingering on every breeze, The touch of frost and loss one feels inside.)
By Conor Darrallabout a year ago in Poets
Love burns like dawn, yet fades when night draws near, A fragile flame that trembles in the storm; Its glow a promise whispered soft and clear,
By shakir hamidabout a year ago in Poets
I used to think myself a troubled soul, Who needed love to help him grow in light. I know now there's a dreadful sunken hole;
Your breath never trembled so loudly and so clearly as if he had created us to meet so many times, yet never to last in this love,
By Antea Lumina Kala Matylda about a year ago in Poets
“if men define situations as real, they are real in their consequences” (Thomas and Thomas, The child in America, Knopf, Oxford, 1928, p. 572)
By Teresa Rentonabout a year ago in Poets
His hand found mine; the surge of that first touch, lit flicks of flame, and caused my heart to sing. He said ‘You’re quiet, why say you not much?’
Lantern into the dark of the night sky Fire tries to overcome the darkness Shadows celebrate the complicit sky Darkness hides behind the fear of goodbye
By Mariann Carrollabout a year ago in Poets
I own an old truck and an old house. Way out far, beneath the blue skies Where only the elements and I often speak - In a silent back and forth
By Novel Allenabout a year ago in Poets
To pinpoint when, I cannot remember, that my love for you soared like a rocket. Told you in the middle of December, my heart alive, plugged into a socket.
By Daniel Kabout a year ago in Poets
