There is something sweet about you: In the quiet cadence of your voice Your gentleness and nobility of heart. Your words are delivered with the precision Of a skilled marksman, Powerful – not in the effort with which They are hurled, but in hitting the nerves In the eye, plucking heart strings and causing a…

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I pluck this lily for you

I pick my pen to write, A love poem, a poem About love. A poem For love. I do not find The words. Love is not Found in the sugary words That I court, nor at the mouth Of the lofty mountains that I go to. Love is in the dirt, In the brackish water…

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You speak the language of touch

you speak the language of touch climb like vines through the window of my body, and into my heart. you take me captive in your embrace wrapping me with the warm blanket of your soul. you are summer on a beach the languid wandering and the contentment of the stillness of time; the contrast of…

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The bard with no tales

The words stare at me, Stay put, far away, in the Corner of creativity; the rivers Are frozen and the neurons Clogged. I go after them, ice pick in hand, And with blow after blow, break Off random rhymes That fall to the pages and Melt into islands of nothingness. My muscles beg for reprieve…

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Paper white

There is this game we play where silence speak volumes and affection is shortened into letters. In the spaces between, emotions are compressed, and cursory courtesies are code words that dissolve in vitreous humor and swim towards the amygdala to conceive happiness. I feel the first kick of loss when the silence stops speaking stretches…

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