My friend, to truly feel or love is a weakness
As it seems, nothing is real
Everything is an apparition of the original
I was stabbed just as you were
I sank in the illusion of a disguised fallacy

Now we should learn and show proof by also becoming actors
By recycling the cycle and keep it rotating
Let the naive take our place and keep believing
Because this illusion must be kept and not rooted out
It is necessary for balance

We, the ones who have experienced must also inflate its genuine existence and bask in the glory of knowing that its all a fallacy
It's all but a game.

Love blossoms, blooms like the buds on the branches across the botanical garden.
In may,  in new York,  it's sweating,  glowing and knows where you've been.
Love has no clear definition,  comfort,  needs,  wants. ..tears fall from love and love can make you sweat.  
Love fades like the colors on the leaves,  petals on the roses sun light to the evening.
Love returns like the leaves on the barren branches and the darkness of the night lit up by the rising sun.

This love is pure,
like a kiss on the cheek in the snow.

This love is exciting,
like the first drop on the roller coaster of life.

This love is bright,
like the meteor shower we watched that night.

But most importantly,
*this love is true.

You are stunning, overwhelming, breathtaking,
Drop-dead gorgeous.
Jaw-droppingly, eye poppingly, bewitching.
Striking beauty.
I knew since I got lost in your eyes.
I knew since you took over my mind.
I knew since the first second I started the fall.

I know
You will **** me.

From head to toes
We are imperfect
Saying the things that are unimportant
Talk about the weather
Rather than say, I couldn't live without you
Too scared to say what we might regret
But if we don't
Will we not feel the same
Those actions we don't put into action?
Those words we don't allow our tongue to form, our lips to pronounce
Will they not haunt us
When it comes to the end?
Lay your head on her chest
Hear her heart
Get close
Give your heart what it needs
Trust, to save yourself
Tell her you love her& give the evidence of it
Give with all your heart
Chance the hurt
To eliminate the regrets, 'what-ifs& I wishes'
Live from the heart

The Space Between You and I

What can I say, I’m really feeling you but
The mood was sort of somber an I thought a back massage would do the trick
As you sexually suggested I play with your ****
I began to get aroused when your fingers tickled the ****
The sensual breeze of your breath on my thigh gave me this
****** high and the need the desire for you quickened
******* shift and this thing was stiff

The Space between you and me

Come closer not afraid im ready, my back against the wall
Legs around your waist your trust is deep and protected as you ****** those hips and kiss these lips
I **** on your neck hard is your body pressed firmly against mine
I brace my self for the motion
You speak softly (hold on) warm is this that runs down my leg as I begged for it
*** moans and words and beads of sweat filled my room with heaven
I was glad that the space between you and I
Got closer…..

Sleepless nights
and tender touches
truly provide unique perspective
for all to come
and all that's gone

                                   Broken pencils
                                   and crumbled papers
                                   are merely a lead
                                   for dried up tears
                                   and ****** knees

Mistake or blessing
a hidden disguise
a rush of heat
a secret demise

                                 For all that is given
                                 a fracture of the heart
                                 that is the price
                                 if we must part

I haven’t dreamt of you in ages,
Yet last night you crept in,
The product of some subconscious fever

I wish you’d have the courtesy to keep your distance,
Because although I miss you the way gasoline misses spark,
I still remember the impact,
Broken glass crunching underfoot
And sirens wheeling away my innocence

I remember colors bleeding away to grayscale,
Like a black and white film morosely painting a plot
Where the actors simply grimace at each other
Over grievances unbeknownst to the audience,
The denouement arrives to show us a lone chalk outline,
Roll credits.

We're all made to pay for our mistakes,
And my heart spits out poetry,
Trying to repay this debt,
But some mistakes we never really stop paying for