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 Dec 2021 Melissa Rose
The lover on the other line
Who whispers nothings
Literal nothings
Isn't real

She's just the memories which
I'm inclined to think about
And yearn to kiss
Again and again
 May 2021 Melissa Rose
She watches a firefly dancing
in the pretty, sorrowful darkness.
She’s a moonflower clinging to her dream,
singing songs of love and magic.
A mystical vision in the radiance of night,
in her concluding silky, passionate glide upon the deathless sky,
in her deepest grief,
some blissful dreams arise.
We should have
been so much
Now we're just a torn
in a finished book.
The memories are
but the pain still lingers.
I still smell you on
my fingers.
I still taste you on
my tongue.
Love kills slowly;
a backward glance from
an invisible god.
I'm a bird that sings,
but cannot fly.
I'm the ticking of a
A rocking chair.


amor tardius occidit is latin for Love kills slowly
What comes from ashes, you would know.
I've seen you there, fire in your eyes.
Your modesty allows me slow
Pursuit, perhaps I should disguise
My tongue's intentions in a song,
Or dance my way inside your head
And bring you back where you belong--
Oak headboard,  my ancestral bed.
You may see me, firewalking fool--
Head topped with bells, a rubber soul--
Salute you with a burnished tool,
Your misused heart my certain goal.
Now close your eyes, imagine me
In your embrace, in ecstacy.
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