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29 | 31 Poems for August

I need conversations filled with laughter followed by bursts of love after.  
The last time I tried to recite this poem to you, I couldn’t get the words out.
I somehow couldn’t get the words right.
Slow-paced piano music gently echoes in the background.
The notes keep echoing while I try to patiently pen this down.
I am convinced, that the sun came out just to impersonate the warmth of your aura.
I’ve kept your fingerprints pressed between the pages of my favourite author’s book.
Somewhere between the prologue and chapter five.
Where the protagonist almost died but luckily stayed alive.
I wanted to become a poem, the day I realised that words could hold you, have you, touch you.
You are the stars that my night sky longs to hold.
You and I are meant to be.
Your love and laughter have liberated me.
I want to heal your wounds while carefully embracing your scars.
I know you feel broken, so let me kiss you where it hurts.
I’ll arrive to the other parts of your alluring anatomy, eventually.
Let me breathe life into you.
Let me prove to you that ecstasy is something we all need to go through.
Poetry rests on the curves of your lips, so how can I not love the meaningful things you always say?
My eyes will recite to you the poetry that is written on the pages of my heart.
I need conversations filled with laughter followed by bursts of love after.
To write about you is to keep your presence alive within the unseen parts of me.
You are the reason why my heart feels free.
Your love and laughter have liberated me.
31 | 31 Poems for August

(Written with Naledi Tshikota)

Write me a sonnet, point dozens of Cupid’s arrows to my heart if you dare to awaken it.
Tune into your inner Shakespeare, fantasize us as Bonnie and Clyde if you care to spend time in it.
Recreate the Titanic, recreate it with the ending of The Notebook if you can bear to believe in it.
And if that doesn’t work, cast me to sleep like the Romeo you are and let me awake next to your lifeless flesh and dagger as I pierce my soul with it.

Write me a sonnet, let every single one of those fourteen lines bleed with emotion.
Leave The Notebook next to my notebook and become the protagonist of my dreams.
Think like the wind and attain the kind of power that’ll allow you to ******* away on any given day.
Your presence keeps transforming our thoughts into beautiful poetic paintings, Basquiat and Picasso would’ve been proud.

Write me a sonnet, silence every impurity that does awaken my love.
Summon the essence of my soul for the taking of your unforsaken hands and make Mona Lisa cry sacred tears of joy.
Create simplistic glimpses that only our superior beings can understand, only then can I unleash my undying emotion towards your uncontested universe.

Write me a sonnet, the kind that will make me realise that your heart isn’t filled with any doubt.
The day I realised that words could touch you, I wanted to become a poem.
The kind of poem that Maya Angelou’s ink always dreamt about.
The taste of your smile still lingers on the edges of my lips.
I see galaxies in your eyes, it must be in the way I love you like I do.
I could’ve settled for less but I don’t want anyone else but you.

Write me a sonnet that speaks to the heart of my mind.
Because I always hear your heartbeat when I think about you.
Write me a sonnet that intertwines our inner intuitions.
A sonnet that makes you believe in shooting stars if you’re into wishing.
And finally that captures the very essence of the unknown soul that’s unspoken of.
Because it’s within your golden silence that I hear the loudest cry.
She'll probably never know the depth of my affection
Because I too hasn't come close to its discovery
She doesn't realize how much I crave her attention
That her absence is illness and her presence recovery
She cannot tell the thing that loves her is just close
Because her favorite obsession is miles away
The reason behind her Heart's closed doors
So that desolation is her annual pay and she underscores whatever I say
She might never realize that true love was underneath her eyes
While she strained them peering beyond the horizons
Yet that far can cloak in the skin of  truth, lies
But I understand every beating Heart's got her own reasons
She might never feel the warmth of my passion
Because she trustingly and truly belongs to a better person
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