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You stop to look at yourself
For every mirror you pass by
You can’t help but to gaze into your eyes
Such perfection that lies in the glass
You tilt your head and pass your hands
Through your shimmering hair
Brushing all those obsidian strands

Oh the fortunate mirror
So close to you
So close to you
I envy it

But then again I envy every single particle
Of dust that rests on you
The golden light that lays its head
On your pink shirt
The blessed water molecules
Holding your hair together
The plastic comb running its fingers
in your otherwise tousled hair
held by your warm fleshy hands
As you stare into the mirror
Brushing your obsidian strands
Lost inside a labyrinth

Tight-lipped tinkerer
open-mouthed cynosure

Pressing matters completing their circuit
all things said, but not spoken

Osculated locution, succinct phrasing
released, but not heard

The human element imparting
seminal spark
—together felt and touched

A tingling syntax
owing to its art
becoming its nucleus

Free flowing thoughts
Moonlit sky
Dinner by the beach
Hands reaching
Far across my thighs
Long summer evenings
That turn to dawn
Empty wine bottles
A seat in a lawn
We sat there in silence
Side by side
Hand in hand
Watching the Crimson sunrise
With coffee afterthoughts
A slight hesitation
Before our lips lock
nóah May 15
Revering the sight of your curves in the sheets
Titillated are my thoughts to which has brought to exist
Letting the water fall emanate strongly
while having my fingers swim through simultaneously
Yours were tied down on the promises I’ve kept
Blind folded as it pleasurably gets
Trust is the bond that made us so sure
To let each other have this type of love so soon

Sensually it may come, oomph we may be are
The sight of you naked is a form of an art
Beautifully it truly is; ***** it may get
Love is the truth, no matter how hot it could get
nóah May 15
As you look upon the skies and glance over the moon
You stare in awe as you talked in a blissful tune
You kept adoring the skies as you speak what you know
While I only beg the stars to make the time run slow

Once I caught your eyes, I wondered if you could see
What you admire is just a reflection of thee
Though, I could not agree more to what you admit
All I’d say: the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?
jon May 9
Ever since you left
I don’t know what to do but I’m surprised I haven’t ran
I don’t know what comes next
I can still feel your hands
Must be muscle memory
Perhaps a new feeling for nerve endings
I’m lost, you caught me in a trance
I can’t deal with it, true
I want to hold you
I need your touch, how lovely that would be
I want to hold your hands and hear you love me
You make my heartbeat dance and skip a beat
I could talk to you for hours
Remember the night you got me flowers
It was as sweet as the blush wine
I poured for us both
I’m missing you the most
And without your hands in mine
It’s phantom pain and I don’t mean to whine

Are you still there?
Always said I wouldn’t beg for you to talk to me
But here we are, do you even care?
Put yourself in my shoes and try to see
Where I’m coming from
Love is in the air and I want some

Your hands, I want to hold
All this waiting is getting old
I know I’m broken
It’s been a while since we’ve spoken
Did I mention that I need to hold your hand?
****, you’ve got me stuck in a trance
I love you, do you love me?
I guess we will wait more and see
Hours pass by, I remember your beautiful eyes
I beg you please be done with all your lies
So, I can truly love you like nobody else
Don’t get the idea that I won’t love myself
No lies
You would be one of my hardest goodbyes
I’m tired and don’t want to wast any time
I love you
Promise you, my words are true.
I miss you.
Clive Blake May 6
I love you as long as the day
And as the night is deep,
I love you when I first awake
And when last I fall asleep.

You’re as pure as a snowfall,
As invigorating as a sharp frost,
My heart and soul to you have
Been voluntarily lost.

You are as fair as a moonbeam
And as bright as the sunshine,
I’ll never take your love for granted,
For I feel blessed that you are mine ...
Lise Nastja May 5
“Who’s the lucky guy?” someone asks
“Their name’s Bea,” I reply
“I support that,” they hesitate
“You are so brave.” they add

I never saw their lips as a political statement
Nor did I think holding hands in the front seat
while a friend is puking by the side of the road
Was some kind of revolution

How romantic is it
That our story will be etched
Not in some Neruda poetry book
But a professor’s first textbook
Or a college student’s 2 am essay

When I said I was in love
You thought it meant I was hungry
Not for touch or for pleasure
But for justice and freedom
I didn’t know that
When I run my fingers down her neck
It would be tied to a long Twitter thread

I never saw my love as a battleground
A metaphysical exploration of sexuality
What’s Marxist about the way their eyes
disappear when they smile?
What’s so intersectional about
Our entanglement at the back seat
Or our hands holding in front

I never thought I would be so brave
At my most fragile state
So political
In my most dumbstruck ways
So woke
When I’m asleep in her embrace
What it feels like to be in a queer relationship. Your whole relationship becomes a political discussion. And while I love a discussion, sometimes I just want to love.
We dreaded this day
When this clock finally struck
Words can't express this

Yet, I am happy
For all that we have became
A friend, a lover

No need for anger
We showed love and compassion
This was true romance

Take care of yourself
I'll think about you everyday
The best memory
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