you said that
you love it when it rains.
little did you know that
it rains
whenever i shed a tear.
maybe that's why
you seem happy
even if i'm hurt;
you enjoy
whenever i cry.
and i'll always end up
exchanging your sorrow
for my euphoria,
in hopes of you
loving the rain—
me, my tears, and my pain.
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 9:40 AM UTC
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 9:39 AM UTC
When I can't take the silence anymore
I type my little message,
send it to your cellular device
"Goodnight, sleep well."
When I really want to say
"I love you, sweet dreams."
And a few minutes later you say,
"Oh yeah. Good dreams."
And I want to kiss you,
smile at you, eat frozen raspberry yogurt
with you,
and I can't so
I guess I'll go to sleep.
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 9:29 AM UTC