There's a phrase
I wan to say
Through barrier
Of the tongue
Em thich anh
Rat nhieu
Gosh I like you so much
Aishiteru
I could say
Or even
Querme
No matter the language
The look is the same
The feeling induced by eyes
I've caught his gaze
My hips his hand graze
Language will not be our demise

He sat in dewy grass
Writing a pastoral dialog.
“And death is also here,” mused he.
“All art depends on gravity.”
He neatly ordered his pages.

She wove lilacs in her hair,
Standing on moss in the damp morning air.

He considered that God might be in all things.
Was he blaspheming by crushing the grass?
But of course Bentham’s calculus obviates sin.
He thoughtfully scratched his chin.

She approached him from behind,
Dismayed by the clutch of wildflowers
Someone had wrenched out by the roots and thrown away,
Yet suffused in the absolute peace of that day.

She touched his arm—a summons.
What was that sensation?
He was left without rational explanation.

Thanks for looking at me
Even though it didn't last
Your memory I'll cherish
Til the day I turn to dust.

A fraud, I mistook you for a mystic and also took your word
How could I not, you sang my name and you sang like a bird
You kiss like a knight
And all your lies at first seemed white.
All mild, harmless, benign, small and inconsequential
But your ******* bohemian circle is still shallow and preferential
Small and inconsequential, that's what I am now
Small, no one can see me
but how?
how does one dissolve into nothing but still feel it all
No I'm not worthy of love, but still I hear her call
In the lonely night, the winds lonesome cackles
Scared and lonely, romantic shackles
I swear I ache and ache and once again ache
For the next time this hopeless heart of mine will break
God knows I ache and then ache some more
Wanting a man to leave me sore
But they just leave me sore.