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Kenya83 Feb 2018
I can compare you to this February day
It’s mild, it’s grey
But thoughts of you brighten the way
The sky is low, hazy off white
Despite lack of sun it’s really quite bright
You can barely make out the shape of a cloud
As the canvas sits proud, not loud
Calm and there
A slight dazzling glare
Quietly unassuming but certainly all-consuming
I see your movement in the trees, your persona in the breeze
I long for stillness in my dreams
Where I often play these themes and scenes
Where what may seem extreme is simply being
Minds connecting, conversations reflecting
Memories collecting
Passions injecting
Kenya83 Feb 2018
Are we all, or is it just me
Consumed, controlled by emotion
Idleness makes you think
It’s good for your wellbeing
To consider and contemplate

I sit here
Body unwashed
Hair unbrushed
Mind calmly cluttered
Discontent but weirdly content in the moment of thought
Kenya83 Feb 2018
Nothing lasts forever
I can’t bear those three words
Truth is acceptance
That endings are inevitable
My dog won’t always greet me
You won’t always bring my morning tea
Comforts and consistencies have to end somewhere
Though I know this to be true
It scares me
I’m still frozen with gut-wrenched dread
At the inescapable
Though I wholeheartedly know
Nothing lasts forever
Kenya83 Feb 2018
What matters
Isn’t tangible
Substance is  
Not visible
Depth is
Offered
A gift
More concrete
Than anything physical
Intensely palpable
Untouchable
Profoundly emotional
A connection
Felt and communicated
Words aren’t required
Nothing requested
Just eyes and souls
Hands and hearts
And bodies
Being
Kenya83 Feb 2018
The birds are singing
Welcoming me home
Greeted with sincerity
In a smile
With truth
I missed tactility
Craved authenticity
Mutual connections  
Gentle reciprocation
Excitement wears rapidly
Grasses are not luscious all year
Lessons are not always learned
Ego seeks worth
In the wrong place
At the right time
Kenya83 Feb 2018
Writing down the truth
Cold liquid floods my body
Deserved guilt and shame flows in my blood
Diluting my good
Fighting red pained tears of weakness
My left eye weeps
A pathetic, pitiful drop that returns upon each wipe
I can’t allow it to flow
But I deserve to cry
I’m frightened
Frightened it will open something that I can’t contain
I’ll wait till I’m home, alone
Where I can reflect on my selfish desires
My mindless ignorance and lustful greed
Innocence? Probably not
I write as he breathes heavy next to me, carefree
My stomach drops
There was no satisfaction found
Fleeting,
Careless,
Carelessly giving away a part of me
That should remain unfamiliar
This isn’t poetry
There’s nothing poetic about
Deceiving love
Kenya83 Feb 2018
If you were a colour I’d struggle to discover
One that represented all that’s comprehended
There would be bright and mellow hues, tones of multicolour zones
Depending on multiple factors, you’d transmit watercolour attractors
Technicolour passions formed from synchronised, monochrome fashions
Ever changing patterns, rotating kaleidoscope lanterns
You give your yellow to me, I stare at it till I see
Orange, it’s heated with fire
It cools to purple without losing desire
The passion in your charcoal grey, you shared
And red declared I was prepared
To share tie-dye techniques, however unique
You rinse off your paintbrush in artistic rush
Diluting my balance, for a moment I’m crushed
Then colours touch, creating rainbows and such
Chakras align, bleeding colours my lifeline
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