I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Please don’t let me
go
back to this apartment,
because
its no longer the
place
that I call my
home.

vision so vital
to all a poet is;
silent beauty whispers
its miracles only
to those listening.

the poet cursed
with eyes and ears
the clamor of
a living, dying world
inundates
their soul

finding refuge
from the deluge
in a quiet stream of stanzas

never realizing the blessing
of the eye of the poet

until all the words have dried

Slowly suffocating in ink
Thinking this will somehow make
living life any easier

Thinking and thinking
And eating and eating
Cake at 2 o’clock in the morning
Trying to forget

Cloud over my head
Pouring out blood,
sweat and tears
from the days of
Helping you survive

Head held up high
in desperation
Praying and praying
that I don’t drown

Slowly suffocating
And restricting any other love
for my mind, body and soul
Putting you first was the
Utmost worse decision I have
ever made in my life.

Because years later
I’m still drowning in my own sorrows
from back in those days
When I loved you.