To whats poetry is left unwritten,
though no-one can never detached
from their personal history, regret &
shame seem to always take home
in our private souls. Eyes open agained,
do I dare accept it’s beauty I see in you,
it’s void in the inbetween, I took the
price tag off from it & made love
priceless in your entire essence of
existence. Biting our tongues,
sleeping underneath the covers,
distant in the absence, in ease
in gradual acceptance, to what is
poetry lays in experience. Just spent
my entire energy, getting your attention,
breathing for the
first time, when I rest into a personalized
paradise safety of your arms, it’s
like reality colliding with mythological
Holiness. And I feel love for the very
first time. To what is poetry unwritten
is immortalized in our memories.  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GEadD3s-5go