red

can be anger
                                                                                                        can be love
can be abusive
                                                                                             can be passionate
can be dangerous
                                                                                                can be warning


it is the color of blood
                                                                                        it is the color of love

he touched me like i was fragile piece of glass
held me in his arms as if i would shatter if he let go
kissed my forehead so gentle it was as if his lips weren't even there
wiped away my tears like they were made of vapor
and spoke like he was telling me the most important secret in the whole world
"I love you"

The difficult thing about a love poem
is that it doesn’t want to be one.
You see! I’ve already let the meter go
wherever it wants to roam, for the sake of fun,
and to make my point. It’s sort of like the way
our feet get tangled when we sleep, and we trip
into each other’s dreams. Poetry can’t contain
how gently you kissed me — even when I was sick.
This type of love requires an honesty
that poetry can’t express. A careful glance,
chocolates, red wine and all the rest
can’t capture the drunk-in-love ways we’ve danced — 
or the magic of long plants. But who’ll blame me for
trying to count the ways that I adore you?
             
                                           —and in fourteen lines, no less.

You don't drive me crazy the way he does
You don't
Make me reckless, obsessed, sleepless
Holding something I thought would slip
But an illusion that was never there

You don't make me beg for your love
Maybe you don't
Ignore all my feelings, hide my heart under my sleeves
Making August January in one blink
Plumbing my heart into nitrogen gas

But You don't know what you did to me
The party your eyes found my figure in the crowd
the hoarse confessions of love,
Besides my ears, hot breaths and strong arms
Holding me tight even when you sleep
Burying your face in my neck, calling it home
Pulls me into the shower against you and kiss me
wet and willing, until I run out of breaths
Dinners and Carafe, collars and leashes.
The way you look at me, eyes full of love.

So if they ask me if you are my type,
whether you make my heart go mad
I would smile and say no
My heart doesn't go mad, because it found home
You are not my type, you are the love of my life

On this special day,
Hope rises,
As the passion for your embrace melts into love comes my way.
The thoughts
Of your sweet round face
Makes me believe I took a flight to see you yesterday,
Looking out the window,
Longin' for your kiss
Feenin' for those dancin hips,
Us,
Getting a taste of what it really means to live in bliss.
No tests,
No fights,
Just peace.

The strength of this newly placed heart
That we created,
Only sinks deep,
And deeper,
Makes me believe we belong on the heart-filled picture.

                       U & I,
            Happy Valentine's day.           ©MH