Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sophia Nuanez Feb 2013
I don't mind you much, it's true
But please, just don't stick to
Me like glue
Maybe.  

Maybe?

But then again, no.  
I am not your territory to cross
I'm saving my roads, you see,
For something better than you and me
Please don't cry, darling,
Can't you see it in my eyes?
You're perfect, boy, but I know from the depth of the ocean floor
I am nothing to you but a swift
Demise
Sophia Nuanez Feb 2013
I am swaying and rocking and coming undone
Longing for my beloved to come, to wrap me in lavender and throw me aside
Just to pick me back up again and listen as I’ve cried,
Reveling in the ache and the way my body shakes
In fear of losing that which is not mine, the pains in my heart erupting as tiny quakes  
And why me, my dear, why am I the one?  
Oh honey, oh sweetheart, what have you done?
Sophia Nuanez Feb 2013
The seaside is the prime example of lovers
The way it trembles, swishes and sways
Like humans under the covers
Just longing to stay there for days

But alas, it could not break the tight seal of reality
The shore and the tide, bound to part in all of their pain
Still, amidst this pretentious practicality
They go on adoring one another all the same

It’s like hills, you see
The way that we slide together and apart
Dear boy, it is you and me
And I pray, it is a sacred art

Of slipping and sliding and going insane
Of crashing together and mixing together
Me part of you, and you of me, the same
Making the parting all the more pregnant with pain

But, dear, you know what I see?  
I see the world flooded over, the water never to leave – what you and I, I and you can forever be.
Sophia Nuanez Feb 2013
Oh, well, I don’t blame you, dear
Your pretty face and soul?  You can
Have no control over that, surely.
See, the thing is, I worry that your
Lovelily spun
Web will catch nightmares along with
Love
But please, mademoiselle, don’t let this shake the
Charming dew drops of yours

Keep
Spinning
Your
Web!

For your beauty
Will not fail, (as mine has, for which I shall never be forgiven
or viewed with kind eyes again, though I knew not
what the sting of the bee really
whispered)
I promise you, it won’t
In its ancient and blessed task
Of making life
(so glorious
Already!)
Worth living…
Sophia Nuanez Feb 2013
Blankets on blankets
On boldness and on kisses
On promises
Chuckles and time standing still
On loving, that cure-all pill

— The End —