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Many possibilities
Harmony on top

We are what we want
Threading on a blurry line
Friends to lovers and reverse
We are flexible, we are fine
His5Her is a series of poems with different points of view of fictional people.
Sharon Talbot Mar 2021
You come to me each night
After all the crowds have left.
Never telling me your name.
And I, having stood for hours,
Begin closing down in the glow
Of blues, vermilion and rose
Reflected in plate glass,
From neon names of luxury.
I move to synthetic music
On an old stereo and let my
Eyes play tricks with the light,
The vivid letters and logos
Snake round and dance
Against the incipient night.
Just as I relax, you arrive,
The last one here every time,
As you were on the first.
You no longer pretend to consider
A preference, nor wander
Around, feigning interest in
Things you might not want.
Last night you brought flowers,
Twelve lilies in a Venetian vase.
Now this night you say I should
Dine with you somewhere,
But dinner is a euphemism.
You stand close, even as I turn away,
Occupying my eyes, though still,
I see your dark hair, straight shoulders
And the lean, solid strength of you.
I try not to think of your lion eyes,
Almond-shaped and topaz, that glow
With desire and will show a certainty
About me, lessening your need to ask.
As another song starts, I turn around
And you wait, amused almost.
“I have something for you,”
You say, conspiring with Venus,
And hand me a gift.
“You shouldn’t have,” is automatic
But I unwrap it while suspicion taps
On my shoulder, like a tiny demon.
Surprised, a cascade of softness falls
Through my hands, like pouring cream.
Holding it up, I see an evening gown
And think how strange a gift it is.
But it is as alluring as you,
The cloth is the blush of a thousand
Sunsets that sigh like silk
Dragged across a lover’s limbs

I ignore the thought that this color,
So full of innocence and petal-shades,
Clashes with your dark, consuming insistence
That I feel your desire and can’t turn you away.
You can blend kindness with tenacity,
So I am apt to let you in.
Agreeing to your proposition,
I suggest a dance with me.
I want to hear all the music in the world:
Pianos, violins, qanuns, sitars and humming bass,
With luscious voices luring the darkness inside,
Causing the lights to dance and our feet to move
Into that zone of heat that is riotous now,
That I felt all day, knowing you would come
To me again and I know now what will ensue.
And yet, as my body moves toward you
Without moving, my mind holds back,
Delighting in the wish, prolonging the unfulfilled
And I see in your pained gaze,
Under lids heavy with lust; you feel it too.
Why is it that we think of lovers
More intensely when they are far away,
And are closer to us on a distant shore,
Then, when their arms close round us,
We wish almost to be apart,
So they could reach for us once more?

Based on a dream
March 4, 2021, 12:50 AM
Moss M Jacques Mar 2021
She didn't set out to be a seductress
Until she became a seducted
She was afraid of love
Not wanting to see her heart
Being devastated in stitches,
By a thousand cuts
You're a seducer, she said to him
Why do you say that? He asked politely.
Because the first time we met
You melted me like a mountain of snow
Melting away in the summer.
I must confess: I thought I built giant walls
To protect me from a man like you.
There you are, tearing them down altogether
without allowing me the benefit of a fight.
Really? he exclaimed
Tell me more.
you walked up to me
you touched my hands flirtatiously
you look me straight in the eyes
and compliment me with a calm, balanced,
Masculine and confident voice.
I didn't expect it,
I didn't want it,
I was blown away.
She continued:
I was a lost soul; you shelter me.
I was a lost ship; you seize me.
I was a lost bird; you cage me.
I was a diamond in the rough,
You dig me out and make me yours.

And what do you think of me now?
You're a happy man.
Why do you say that? He asked.
She replied:
You know how to give and receive pleasure.

Down memory lane,
If you elect to remember one thing about me
What would that be?
She answered:
You intrinsically love women.
© 2021copyrighted material provided for educational purposes only.
This poem is a tribute to men who value and love women and the women who value and love them back.
This poem is for all the beautiful Emmas of the world. If your first name is Emma, this is for you.
Han Jin Feb 2021
Your eyes are made of dark crystal and your mortal parts reminds my feeble soul why we were never meant to be holy.
Poetic T Mar 2021
You were the cement boots around
my ankles and I would sink beneath
your gaze screaming as I sank to the
                                                  bottom.

I saw the others the ones who failed
your questioning, your mind games
of unconscious action and reaction.

But with me, I screamed in laughter,
as I knew that you'd always let me
drown enough to be conscious of
                       your ever-changing needs.

We were the lime and the sand,
our words the water that would be
mixed together. We would be concrete
           metaphors of each other's needs..

And I found it slightly ***** when you
tried to metaphorically drown me in
                                       your mind.
I always learnt some depth to you the
                         longer you let me drown.
Rajan Feb 2021
Silent as a night you came,
Underneath a purple lit neon café I saw,
Like those fireflies you lit the spectral night,
And I saw something beautiful through your sadness,
Shaded my heart with those moonlit sparkles in your eyes.
A desire to hold you in my hands,
A piece of warmth perhaps against those cold rushing winds,
A tune, a key, a note to paint a melody against the dark canvas,
A chance for a  love to blossom even for a night,
To blossom the flower underneath your sad eternal nights.
Ella Feb 2021
I pretend your name looks the same as the others
that your eyes don’t make my heart flutter

I pretend your words
aren't lines I’ll memorize tonight
that your smile isn’t a ray of sunlight

I’ll pretend to laugh at your jokes the same as the others
but with you, you make me see luminescent colors
What they say about red rose rims are true
and that’s not all I even feel with you

I sleep seeing daisies, dreaming about
ways you make me crazy
I smell orange blossoms everywhere by
Imagining that you simply care

I pretend that you are just another ***** page wedged inbetween the lost loves
the almosts
And the fakes
but

you’ve made pretending a dichotomy
a contradiction to the feelings I say
the truth is
my red rose rim glasses get brighter everyday
Succumb to the attraction,
And you just might find
The greatest marvel the
World failed to define.
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