If you say te quiero fast enough,
The beginning almost sounds like take.
That is not to say I won't take,
But I will give so much more.

I thrive with excitement when I have mulled
Over when we first met. A wind stroked my
Hand, as did you. But softer, than that breeze.
I cried and wailed until soothed by your warmth.

Not only do I remember that first
Encounter: I recall and reminisce
Over the sunrise and sunset you showed
Me. A peek-a-boo of day and night time.

After the light and dark, I must keep you
Near. You are replaced with a night-light in
The shape of your moon: a crescent-like smile.
Some safety, I cling to you for refuge.

However much I want to need you now,
Let me go and let me do what I want.
Drive cars, use electricity. It's too
Much. High phone bills, but not from ringing you.

Time went on: I changed and grew, you blossomed
In spring time. You brought me gifts I treasure
Every year. You and I are altered. You
Age drastically. I try to savour time.

Things have changed like season fashion. Winter
Means scarves, you are ice cold and white as snow.
Illness. You do not dress yourself in coats.
Mother nature, address us, you are unwell.

We'll listen to reggae and fall asleep.
Me, in your arms. You, panting heavy,
happy sighs. Inhalation, exhalation, inhalation. I'm beginning
to dream these vivid images of life:
I start, you stop it. It's you and
me, like this incorruptible bond, feeling like
a salad of cables, of intertwined bodies
awaiting passion and love. It screeches
to a respectable halt. You'll play
those strings and I'll strain my voice-box.
No words, just our reggae tune spreading
via our ears, causing these... these goosebumps.
Tonight's ideal. Slow reggae, beautiful
harmonies. I could perish, let my heart
stop to this song: I'd die ecstatic.

And now you're just a face in the crowd,
That I used to recognise
Every inch of;
The eyelashes that curled more than mine, and
The teeth that revealed that loving smile.

And now you're just a name in a list of people
Blurred out, no longer highlighted;
Just like a on social media page,
No longer giving me intense, unjustified butterflies.
Oh, how they'd flutter inside.

And now you're just a memory,
A photograph, pausing a happy feeling;
But not truly reflecting the previous, sorrowful
Day or two,
In which I made us both cry.

And now you're just frivolous gossip.
Your name bears this nostalgia;
But can never fulfil me like before.
I know I'm your past,
And will never be your future.

Plug in the kettle,
But in your soul,
With settled heart beats,
Your man is cold.
He loves to call bluff
And shakes your mind;
Poorer than paupers
You, fighting blind.
Plug in the kettle,
Put in again
Some assorted teabags
Of taste in men.
Dunk it in slowly,
But it all spews.
What's left for yourself
What can you do?
Fry your tastebuds in
Oil from your part,
Take out the teabag
From your boiled heart.

I’m split into two
Then I’m whole
I’m up and down
Then I’m left and right
Full of clichés
Then completely original
I’m gravity
Then I’m space
I’m a mess
Then I’m flawless
I’m thoughtless
Then I’m eloquent
I talk for hours on end
Then I’m mute
I’m glue
Then I’m detached
I’ll run
Then I’ll be stationary
I have many thoughts at once
Then I’m blank

I won’t write poems for 2 years
Then I’ll write 6 . . .

Kiss my cheek
I’ll feel 100 times better
I know how much you don’t want me to cry

If you kissed my cheek
The tears would have no choice
But not to stream