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elizabeth-balisePoems
Do I love you? Do I, Love...? The words have stopped doubled over on themselves in pain unrecognized In truth I wouldn't know-- you, Love? But maybe from a picture thinking-- "This is from where the poems come?" Having never searched your eyes with mine nor heard your voice invoke me Known your thinking in any given moment Nor you, mine Nor watched your hands for hints endear affection in expressions Could you forgive my mess of moments? the lame that years have left so slow circles the lonely artless? socially inept I fear you could not forgive the fear for so long left behind How can you say you love me? By what assurance do you Speak into my void
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Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 10:30 AM UTC
Forgive the Mess
Do I love you? Do I, Love...? The words have stopped doubled over on themselves in pain unrecognized In truth I wouldn't know-- you, Love? But maybe from a picture thinking-- "This is from where the poems come?" Having never searched your eyes with mine nor heard your voice invoke me Known your thinking in any given moment Nor you, mine Nor watched your hands for hints endear affection in expressions Could you forgive my mess of moments? the lame that years have left so slow circles the lonely artless? socially inept I fear you could not forgive the fear for so long left behind How can you say you love me? By what assurance do you Speak into my void
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elizabeth-balise
Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 10:30 AM UTC
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