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In grammar, a correlative is a word that is paired with another word with which it functions to perform a single function but from which it is separated in the sentence.

In English, examples of correlative pairs are both–and, either–or, neither–nor, the–the ("the more the better"), so–that ("it ate so much food that it burst"), and if–then.

Correlative
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the word intrigues,
not for its functionality,
but for its relativity

we are neither relatives,
blood connected,
nor are we correlated,
in fact, quite the opposite!

my love for you,
from afar,
if not, then,
not at all

you say never,
and I say, even better!
causing you're confessing,
we are special together,
the more, the better,
our relationship contains
a scriptural clause elemental,
an unconditional
correlative,
for
*ever
I'll grow on you,
like moss on trees,
like stillness in breeze,
like stars at ease.
Little by little i'll unfold it all
Like a story waiting to appease.
And i won't let you go now,
no.
We've come so far with our little footsteps,
Those footsteps ink your book.
I'll watch you glow,
Go with the flow,
Get all low,
and watch you blow all over again
Yet
Those footsteps ink dries out but not this love with you.
I always wanted to write a love poem. A poem where you can imagine with a person you love. Be it a family member, a friend, a lover, a stranger you met in airport yet can't forget so you dream a little universe with them and you in it. I hope you will be able to imagine this with anyone you love.
I don't believe in love at first sight,
Because how can you love me
Without knowing my flaws ?

True love is when you love
Every scar in me,
Every imperfection.

Cause that's the beauty of love.
I want you to want me
With your soul,
Not just the heart and the mind.

I want you to crave me,
Get butterflies when I'm around
And ache when I'm not.

I want to feel home in your arms ,
Lost in your smile,
Where my troubles dissaper.

I want crazy love,
Where we’ll get washed by the rain
While dancing,
Where laughter grows louder
Than a crescendo.

I want us to paint our faces
With flour as we bake,
Messy hands,
Because love isn't perfect
It's messy and playful.
I don’t ask for much—just this kind of simple love. The kind that’s messy, playful, but deeply meaningful.
RH 3h
1 Oz. Passionate Obsession
1/2 Oz. Dread
1 Oz. Insatiable Hunger
2 Cubes of Sugared Words
Garnish with Broken Hearts and Candied Intestines

Serve Cold, it’s what she would’ve wanted
A bit more cryptic than my usual works, but I think it's a very unique way of writing a poem. Enjoy! -RH
I used to love you
I, you
love
did love
use me?
I miss your sweet amber eyes
It reminds me of the sun
Warming me with your sight

Wait

Were they ocean blue eyes?
Like a calm sea, drowning me
With so much love and admiration

No

They were green for sure
Precious emeralds that sparkled
A life and future I can see us in

Ah

They were hazel actually
A spectrum of ever-changing beauty
That memorized me so easily

Oh

I'm almost certain they were deep gray
Like a thunderstorm made out of
The passion we had shared

But

No matter how hard I try
I can't remember the last time
We looked at each other's eyes
Nineteen years of love
Oh, the things it does
Love is truly never enough

Nineteen years of trust
And so many times on the crust
With someone you so entrust

Nineteen years of hope
Two ends of a rope
Two ends with lots of hope

Nineteen years of Gratitude
And coping with attitude
Only very little solitude

Nineteen years of Passion
Lots of imagination
And a lot of attraction

Nineteen years of Admiration,
Devastation
And true love’s manifestation

Nineteen years of Confidence
So much in appearance
Only because people think in terms of Business

Nineteen years of Caring
So much daring
One end goal, Pairing

Nineteen years of Fascination
And Elation
And permanent infatuation

Nineteen years of Joy
Yes, they do annoy
But at last both do enjoy

Nineteen years of Laughter
Couldn’t have gotten here without anger
Love, That started with a banger

Nineteen years of Empathy
There has been so much Sympathy
But, It was destiny

Nineteen years of determination
And so much of a situation
Lots and lots of adulation

Nineteen years of Serenity
After many trips to extremity
Sometimes accidentally

Nineteen years of anticipation
Only because of the generation
Fearful of separation

Nineteen years of Magic
Anger, so tragic
And fear and panic

Nineteen years of Dreaming
While only hoping that you were pleading
To understand the only meaning

Nineteen years of Pensiveness
After much aggressiveness
A little possessiveness

Nineteen years of Adoration
Comes down to communication
And Adaptation.
Fábio Dec 2024
As I open my eyes, I find her by my side
Timid smile on her face,
Words yearning for release
Oh, the things I want to do with you

As her words dance around me
Sweet melody,
Take me to oblivion
Her voice, my only condition
Oh, the things I will do with you!

As the last of her words finds its way out
Delight has sprung,
For love her words just shout
Oh, the things I'm going to do with you!

As I open my eyes, no one by my side
No sight to contemplate,
No words to which abide
Oh, the things I would do with you!

As sounds invade my head
**** alarm, how to tear it to shreds?
Oh, the things I would have done with you!

Oh, the things...
If only your presence was true...
October 2024
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