The delicacy,
that is a woman.

Soft as silk,
sweet like red wine,
tastes of fruitful fertility—
a dish so rare.

Are you at peace?
Is it beautiful where you are?
Can you still see me?
Can you hear me?
Did you read my letters?
Are you reading this one now?
Do you regret it?
Did it hurt?
Did you hear me cry?
Did you see me step on the chair?
Did you tell me to get off?
Did you save my life,
even when I couldn't save yours?

We spoke in different languages
when communicating our love—
a forsaken conversation,
for it lacked comprehension.

You could never understand
my monologues of love—
words I choked on for you,
gasping for air,
with hands clasped,
chanting a faithless prayer.

You craved my mesmerizing harmonies,
while gazing at the curves of my lips,
mapping the valleys of my skin,
tracing the path to my fruit,
ripe and lush,
the purity I guarded—
desperate and seldom.

My mortal self—
transcendent,
and ungodly,
all at once.

You wanted my sacred gifts
and I wanted to give you my world.

"The sun came out just for you,"
he said.
And all the sweet nothings
of early Spring
heals all the grief
of Winters dread

Live to love life
Love to fall in love
And embrace the mundanity
of it all

The small indicators of life;

hidden in the mist,
benevolence—
as seen in the
messy
fingerprints.

Giggles unveiled,
in a momentary glance—
as the glass is fogged,
a smile,
is caught by chance.

A small indicator of life;
minuscule,
if you will,
but even still—
love is found,
in corner-seat windowsills!

He is a fragile man,
who staggers,
lost in lackluster,
he bears a child's dignity—
still stuck in sonder.

He dares to whisper
intimate—
white lies,
to beautiful girls,
with loving,
doe-eyes.

He carries a sad love,
deep,
and chaste,
his curious
pale eyes,
reaped of faith—
as color fades away,
raining regret,
still he wonders why—

"do I lose
every love I've met?"

Let me soothe you,
you gentle—
carnage,
of a shell.

Cocoon you,
and coddle you,
never bid you farewell.

I will wrap silk around your sorrows,
nurturing prosperity,
sing you my lullabies
of maternal eternity,
bear you my fertility,
my youth seeping in
scarcity and purity,
all lovingly,
in divine femininity.