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 Mar 2018 natalee
sophia sacal
Tell me, love—

How many more poems
Do I have to write before
you realize that it is
you I write about?

How many more lines
Describing your stormy gray eyes,
Your heart-shaped lips—
Those lips my body is aching
To kiss?  

How many more meaningful looks and
Stolen sidelong glances
Before you look into my eyes
And see the love that has glazed them over?  

How many more times
Do I have to see your hand
Interlaced with someone else’s
Before you realize mine has been open,
Waiting for yours all along?

How many more unsent texts
At midnight when I can’t sleep
And all I need is you?

How much more, my love?
I’m afraid I cannot wait any longer.
Love is a monster tearing at my heart,
Soon to destroy me if I have to see you
With him once more.
I am not a passionate person,
Or so I would tell you.
My cheeks blush at the thought of being kissed,
And physical affections are often turned away,
Feeling desire for someone is like a new language,
And I had little want to understand it.
No,
I am not a passionate person in the way most would believe.
But I am a passionate person.
Give my heart an emotion,
and my mouth will make it known.
Flood me in kisses,
and my hands will go to work on paper.
Writing my love for you is a fire,
It's flames devour your every action,
For I may not make myself known when it comes to body language.
But in the written word,
you will never live a day to question how my soul aches to show its affection.
 Aug 2017 natalee
Maria Etre
Saudade
 Aug 2017 natalee
Maria Etre
When your
heart beats
in a series of code
that your mind
has yet to
decipher
praise your gods
darling
for you're
evolving
Saudade: Saudade (European Portuguese: is a deep emotional state of nostalgic  longing for something  absent or someone that one loves.

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