your sartorial opulence arrests me,
mijn geliefde -
but i am learning.

when i pull pants that look like pajamas
out of the drawer
to wear to work,
i think you'd cringe
at my weak monday patterns,
incredibly unconventional for the modern world.

i look at you:
torn up jeans with indigo embroidery
and
a crisp white tee shirt
and
very nice leather loafers!

i'm intimidated.

i look again:
you smile
at me
and
at my weak monday patterns
and
at my pajama pants for work.

"mijn geliefde,"
you said with a softened gaze with no cringe.

I want to feel the need
To let a teardrop roll down my cheek
With all the meaning in the world
Of the love I cannot speak

your words, they sound
like rushing drums;
eccentric blood
that rings and hums.

your words, they feel
like feather beds.
a snowflake's kiss
upon our heads.

your words, they look
like morning dew
reflecting soft,
viridian hues.

your words, they taste
of clarity;
peculiar spice
of rarity.

your words, they smell
of night sea breeze,
and everything
that brings me ease.

your words, i keep
them close to me,

but you: a faded
memory.

Aching
in my heart
in my soul
in my mind
in my breath

Throbbing
in my skull
in my feet
in my bones
in my core

Losing
hope
love
perspective
m
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