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If only
I was
able to
the wounds
you hold
deep in
you with
the touch
of my
for now,
I only
but, do
you not
they are
not enough,
only you
My Dear Poet May 17
Before I hand you my heart to have
Have a heart and give me your hand
It went
So deep
Time released
It lasted for days
Leaving an imprint
On my being
Embrace-so long in the making
Seeing friends in person after two long years ,  makes for the best hugs ever
Allesha Eman Jan 27
Between us and this divided sea
Between us and this dying sun
Between us and this pale blue sky
Between us and the raging tide
Between us and running time
Between us and yesterday's dreams
Between us and tomorrow's sleep
Between us and the drying leaves
Between us and winter's grave
Between us and summer's taste
Between us and this beating heart
Between us and what's beneath
Are the remnants of our interlaced
Still holding onto
And some reason to
vega Jan 27
twitchy sniffly noses
silky bracelets woven
a sennight of whispers
and soft rains fallen
bones strident ringing
skins slow submerging
bloodshot eyes and
star-shot skies and
cheekbones shrouded
in staling chlorine

sneaking syrup smiles
under honey gold
four tonics drowned
to fight off the cold
and fast fortune-telling
for finites foretold
trace the lines and
face the folds, please
hold both palms closer
but leave them closed

twitchy ditzy fingers
***** rings unspooled
a sennight of stories
and sinking in pools
bones washed in phenol
skins slick like ferrule
bloodshot minds and
star-shot why’s and
wisteria lips speckled in
the warmest shade of cool.
This is a warfare;
                               we keep  it in photograph,
                               we keep it in pages,
                               we keep it a secret.

                              I thought I was a keeper

and then everything is heavenly
                                  You are beautiful at daytime,
                                  and shining bright at night.
                                  "You are ethereal"
                                                       ­          the distance is an animosity
                                                       ­          though, we keep on
                                                                ­ reaching
                                                    ­             It is not about the
                                                                ­Yearning; we were still
                                                                ­looking at the same sky.

I thought I could keep you (as I keep everything about you)

you wouldn't  be able to held the sky as it was meant to be ethereal
I think it might be nice
To not want or be wanted

To not be an item to be grabbed
Or the hand that reaches out to hold

There is a simple sort
Of naive bliss
In being a wallflower

Never plucked and taken away
Another forgotten decoration
In a glass house

Dave Robertson Oct 2021
Eyes snap like Polaroid:
that memory is captured
so superficially it holds truths

but look more carefully at those colours
and the tunes they sing,
they make you think

something close to fingertips
on glossed pages
where other people's lives live
and mean little

but this is yours, ours,
and I’m holding the hours
holding on and shaking
We see life as we were told,
Obstacles in our path may be fiery or cold!
We don't know, what the future holds?
We just write as the moments unfold,
Taking leads from new and old,
We keep writing until our eyes get closed,
Because we never know, when the writings are going to turn into gold...
Fiery here refers to hot...
Tried another flow of rhymes... And some thoughts of mine too😅

Read 2nd part here
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