She fell for me, too slow,
As the fabric was, off her bed,
     Slithering,
An hour late for all night long,
Few seconds close to dreaming,
The moon's crippling crescent,
The sleight, the curves of these waters,
     All pronations that are for me,
     Were for me, and mine only, only
That everything smells like fresh pajamas,
Only that this time, for a very long time,
I am waiting, and it sounded
     Like true love.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

I vow to love you with my every,
     Every now and then.
So every now and then, I might hurt you,
For great chances had their risky clause,
And so your soul will wash your cheek,
Your nose red from having pinched by me,
     Every now and then.

So every now and then,
Every now and then, you will cry, weep,
And tears will start to dig through my clothes,
But remember from where they fall,
For those are what I fell for.

     Even now. Even then.

© 2015 J.S.P.

The fissure in the skies
(yours or mine)
Are not of distance, nor time,
But of our hearts' disbelief
Of these satellites,
Of these static, static stars,
From ever colliding,
     From ever entwining.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

Our love was
(has got to be)
Among the best, the immensest
And the most baffling
Of all the optional things.
We willed it
     To be like this.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

It took a leaf
     And a thousand more
To make this blinding sun sparkle,
And time crafted the elements altogether,
But your eyes took this kiss,
     Just this kiss,
          And then no more.*

© 2015 J.S.P.

There is a voice that enlists itself
To exclusivity, and is patient.
One that never knew the tongue,
But just the heart.

There is a voice that heeds,
And heeds only to your eyes.
There is a darkness somewhere,
That is an origin of light.
Lean to it. It deserves
Your celebrated silence.

It deserves your soul.
It deserves itself, its true.
It deserves...
     ...your love.*

© 2015 J.S.P.