There are millions of stories
Drifting clouds paint
Each day brings
A new sunset.

It's a pity, really,
That things bright and gold, subtle,
Cannot simply be caught on camera.
It demands the presence of the observer
Who in their true mind
That cannot conjure up it's radiance,
To watch it personally
With awe.

You are a flower
Far too beautiful for me to pluck
I will come to your site everyday
Just to adore your sight
I'll leave you in your natural habitat
I cherish you
But I won't be selfish
I'll leave you for others to behold also
Utmostly, I want what's best for you

there’s not much to say;
i wish i could hold you close and dear
but at arm’s length, you are far beyond reach
i cannot feel your breath against my neck
i cannot feel your hands around my waist
yet we crave every inch of touch
we crave for each other’s taste

it’s such a tragedy to fall into
a love so fragile and secure
but is it love, lust or loneliness?
or are we merely avoiding the question?
are we drowning,
just for the sake of making one another feel whole?
do these hands and smiles revolve around misguided truths?
are your words cloaked in lies or are mine disputed moves?

i guess we will never know

(n.j.)

winter's naked trees
shall soon be clad in leaves
dressing for spring days