Every poem I write is of you.

I write of your chiseled jaw and cheeks.

I write of your collarbones, from whose depth I could drink wine.

I write of the bed of stars you laid me down upon.

I write of your golden skin under the soft white sunlight.

I write of your eyes which remind me of the moon.

I write of your spine which resembles the solar system.

I write of my love and of my man, whose entire soul resembles the composition of the universe.

And I can only hope I am a galaxy within it..

(i. r)

Somehow you remind me
of my past lover.
Like how he used to
play my nose with his finger.
And how he used to
pinch my skin.
When I get mad,
he starts to grin.

Some things he does,
I seem to forget.
Hurting him constantly
is one thing I regret.
How come I miss
these things I knew?
Isn't it bad?
I find him in you.

But now you left,
our tragedy has begun.
Something shattered inside me,
that I thought was long gone.
Your deep, gentle voice
resonates inside my mind.
You showed me love
but it was a dangerous kind.

Someday we might have
a new beginning.
Time can heal wounds,
but it can be deceiving.
I guess we'll want
a brand new start.
Or, forget each other
and forever be apart.

To forget you
is just another repercussion.
It may be unpleasant,
or the best decision.
This perilous love, I'll end
without even saying a goodbye.
Don't even mind it
and bother asking me "Why?"