The black snow runs down from the rooftops;
A red finger dips into your brow;
Blue snow flakes sink into the empty room,
They are a lovers’ dying mirrors.
Heavy and torn to pieces the mind muses,
Follows the shadow in the mirror of blue snow flakes,
The cold smile of a deceased harlot.
The evening’s wind weeps in the scent of carnations.

Continuing to live - that is, repeat
A habit formed to get necessaries -
Is nearly always losing, or going without.
It varies.

This loss of interest, hair, and enterprise -
Ah, if the game were poker, yes,
You might discard them, draw a full house!
But it's chess.

And once you have walked the length of your mind, what
You command is clear as a lading-list.
Anything else must not, for you, be thought
To exist.

And what's the profit? Only that, in time,
We half-identify the blind impress
All our behavings bear, may trace it home.
But to confess,

On that green evening when our death begins,
Just what it was, is hardly satisfying,
Since it applied only to one man once,
And that one dying.

I have spent a lot of time
gazing at you quietly
and enough time has passed
to where I have seen everything.

You sigh a little sometimes,
a little huff of soft air from the
corners of your mouth
when you think I'm not looking.

When you're nervous, you fidget
fingers curled up in blonde hair
canines nibbling on your cheek
when you think I won't notice.

You smile at the littlest things
you laugh enough to make me sigh
it's a little giggle of a laugh, and it's sweet
when you think I'm not paying attention.

But, I am, and have been since I saw you
my eyes have never since wandered
if it's those silences that make you doubt
leave them all behind.

For it is in those silences that I truly see
all of those tiny gestures and sounds
little sighs, giggles, widened eyes
that make me remember.

They make me remember that I,
the lonely soul, the aloof fool
fell in love with you easily
like those smiles, effortless and warm.

So, when you notice me watching
you needn't be shy anymore
because I have been watching you
since that day we met.

And my eyes will never stray. *I promise.

I'm when you subconsciously push your hair over your ear
I'm when you smile on public transport while strangers stare
I'm when you snuggle that cushion close watching tv alone
I'm when you fancy Chinese food yet order pizza again
I'm when you find you can't sleep yet dream happily
I'm when you long for something but cannot decide what
I'm when and what and where and I'm words

Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year’s pleasant king;
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing—
  Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

The palm and may make country houses gay,
Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,
And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay—
  Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit,
In every street these tunes our ears do greet—
  Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
    Spring, the sweet Spring!

I admire her in silent reverence,
though she doesn't know my name.
Milky skin and graceful curves
will haunt my every day.
She radiates a boundless wonder;
sets my heart ablaze.
Oceans swell in desperation,
longing her embrace.
And when she's fallen, I'm adrift
by daylight's sullen gloom.
No other woman can eclipse
the beauty of the moon.