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I'll play guitar, you go to sleep
In the morning I will meet
Your eyes again,
But until then
My love, sleep well.
_M.
What is it about you?
You sparkle with gold
How is it that you make
  my heart sing so?
I breathe you in and feel peace,
  calm, tranquility
My heart is full of love and
  my soul is at peace
I have no need to know the future
I am completely intoxicated
  with here and now
You are my home, my sanctuary,
  my beloved hearts desire
        — Magi
Immortality Oct 1
What’s meant stays,  
quiet and sure.  
  
True love waits,  
even when we turn away.  
  
What isn’t ours  
slips,  
like water,  
gone before we know it.
true................................
A whisper... I, remember when

A roar... I, remember when

A sudden swirl of warmth and pain

Yes... I remember too

It’s you

It has always been you

I have searched forward and backward in time

It has always been you

I remember

I remember, joy, ecstasy, pain

Is it the pain we love?
YOU
Love touched my heart and I felt it’s warmth
It warmed a heart I had meant to keep cold but loving you felt different
When I write I never seem to have enough to say
How can I define it
Love might be complicated,sad,happy or anxious but more than anything love is you
A constellation of all these attributes
If space could tell our love story it would say the art of universal attraction made you a force in effect within my orbit

I bare my soul to you through these words
They might rarely rhyme but I hope these emotions and feelings resonate with you
Noticing you notice me
Love like a symphony
I’ve found my home
YOU the warmest embrace

There will never be enough words for you
Not because you’re not enough but because I love you
Without knowing how,when and from where
You are my inseparable lover embraced in the synergy of one with my entire self
Deep in our hearts where love begins,the language we’ve built together
You touched my life and soul and stole my heart
I might not know where I’m going where I’m supposed to be but you being in my life and me being in yours must mean something to me
That this was meant to be

The heart and mind may have different perspectives but being with you is one thing they’ve both seemed to agree on
That’s just the nature of being with you
You make all things make sense when they don’t
I’ve learnt to know that only you have the power to get my heart interrupting my thoughts before my mind could figure them out

You've made this poetic self live and write poetries that clasp the art of speaking truth
Each moment we together I've loved you more
And so I continue to love you even more than before
You're my sixth sense
Both in my heart and mind
My thoughts of you are in your dreams

This might not be a sonnet to a tearful lover
Divided into sestets and octaves
With 6 or 8 grouped lines
This is a piece of writing that speaks of the love i have for you
For loving you is easy
All I ever wished for
My past,present and future
Just like the memory I was born with.
Avery special poem for the love of my life - BO
There was a time  
when putting voice to
silent declarations  
unspoken longing  
you would have uttered my name  

And it would have danced  
along your strings
The last time I saw you, I smiled, and feigned  
Simple friendship with my lips.  
I walked beside you down a narrow forest trail,  
Tall grass playing at my fingertips, until we emerged  
At a stream, where we sat and talked.  
While my heart beat your rhythm in my ears  
So loudly that I never stopped to wonder,  
If my rhythm was beating in yours.  

I don’t remember most of what was said.  
I can see your eyes, sparkling,  
Darting between mine and the water,  
Your half smile, playing at the corner of your mouth.  
I can see your lips moving, soft and full  
As they wrap themselves around syllables,  
But I can’t make out the words  
Just the thumping in my ears.  

When I leave, for the last time, we hug.  
I feel your soft warmth against me  
And wonder if you can feel yourself  
Thundering behind my ribs.  
I hold on, only a second too long,  
Despite the aching in my blood not to let go,  
Not to unwrap myself from you.  
Because part of me knew, this would be the last time.

Why did I come at all,  
When both of us knew that the stars were already  
Spinning us out of orbit.  
To prove to myself that you were just a friend,  
Or lie to myself that you weren't a lover.

I should have never come,  
Or never left -  
But all we say
is goodbye.
I think, in that moment  
If I had reached  
to tuck your hair behind your ear  
you would have let me  

and if I had traced my fingertips  
along the line of your jaw  
and pulled you into my lips  
you would have kept me
a companion piece with pulsatile for more context
I hope with everything within me;  
on the moon and shooting stars  
old stone wells and white horse waves  
that I am not forgotten  

I still come to the shore and  
wade into the waters,
feel the  current pull against my legs  
threatening to drag me out  
and abandon me in its expanse.  
I steel myself to the waves,  
to the unrelenting deep between us,  
and sing songs across the sea.
some for you
and some for me
and some, for us both,  
and I pray I am not forgotten  

there is a fear, a quiet anguish that  
looms in me like a shadow;  
that the sea has swallowed my voice,  
shipwrecked my song below the waves  
and I am made a stranger.  
an insignificant dot over your horizon.
like so many things
whose time has come
and gone.  

So I hope.
that life has not judged me too fairly,  
that somewhere I am happy,
hidden away inside you  
on a shore that I will never see
and I pray I am not forgotten
You are my late September,  
When spring has long been forgotten  
With its newness, lush green and raindrops.  
The rambunctious giddy splendor of sweaty palms  
And arterial palpitations.  

You are not summer, hot and dripping,  
Air thick, smothering with inescapable heat,  
Panting breaths and desperate lips.  
Perhaps once or twice as we revolved around each other,  
If night airs could tell tales.  

You are not winter,  
Though we have shared Decembers.  
There is no place for you in my snow tipped trellises.  
No coordinate in my circumference that would hold you in ice,  
Frozen and forgotten under rippled white blankets,  
Though perhaps, under wrinkled white sheets.  

You are not fall,  
When autumn turns the ground dirt and dull.  
Trees shedding their raiments  
And reaching naked for the sky.  
Surrendering to the inevitability of winter’s approach,  
Drawing sap down to their rootwork,  
Waiting for another spring  

You are my late September,  
The earth still warm between my toes  
With the remembrance of summer suns.  
More vibrant than spring, and wiser than summer.  
Leaves full of tree-song  
Brilliant gold and fire,  
Blood orange and melancholy yellows,  
Blazing in defiant glory.
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