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My lover is
     strong, kind and tender,
but when he held me in his arms
he confessed that he felt
                                          less of a man
because we were clothed only in
vulnerability
but hadn't known each other yet.
                   "Any other guy would jump at this opportunity" he said.
"But you're not any other guy,"
I said.
"And that's why I'm laying here"
he doesn't know it
but when i lay in his bed
my mind is stringing together
adjectives and airy phrases,
trying unsuccessfully to
pin down the emotions
he breathes into me.

he doesn't know it
but when i kiss his skin,
i imagine my lips
peppering his chest
neck and arms with
ink stains that morph
into words like "lover"
and "darling".

he doesn't know it
but the smile he shares
with me under the covers
is pressed firmly
into the corners
of my heart,
begging to be immortalized
in words.
In the night,
I saw his mind
bury him in a
dark place.
        A place that none
        of my kisses or whispers
        could pull him out of.
Yet all my heart
could say was,
*"My lover,
come back to
my arms."
so far
i've only let myself
adore him.
but the last time
i was holding him,
my lips
did something
strange.
they said,
"i do not love you"
to the air and to his ears
but when i
kissed his temple
and his jaw
they whispered,
"yet i really do".
those two kisses i could not hold back,
fleeting and different
from the others,
made
my heart do something
strange.
it sighed at
the thought of him
and faintly said,
*"maybe i more than adore him"
her heart beat too fast for him,
too hard and too loud.
he loved to dance to her rhythm,
but his arms could not hold
onto her for long,
could not stand the wildness
radiating from within her.
so she held her breath,
she rejoiced less and was quiet.
her bounding heart slowed to
a whisper
and quickened only when
beheld by him.
she missed the feeling of life
in her chest always,
and soon she herself
became a whisper,
enveloped in the cool silence
of his arms
where she slowly turns
instead of dances.
falling into love is okay.
the landing's a *****, though.
she* refused
to cry
because
her sorrow
was the only thing
that still tied
her heart
to
**his
Let me be the woman I was meant to be
let me run wild through fields of gold
let me run when I am old...
I want to travel the world with you my love
I want to fly with you above
Riding wild horses on the beach
as passionate waves splash upon our feet
Oh, this is the life I want to know
with warm fires inside while it snows...
I read to you as you read to me
all the poems we believe to be...
the wonderful life together that we see.
 Jan 2016 Forgotten Heart
ZL
2015
 Jan 2016 Forgotten Heart
ZL
2015 left me with some good advice...

life is not nice
life is not fair
life does not care
life does not share
life does not love
life is a ***** and she's tough!!!

I just pray 2016 has mercy on me,*

because I've had *enough
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