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Love Letter #58: Symmetric

To say your name
in the silence of the evening
still brings me to tears;

your fingers, wipe them away,

trace the shape of my lips,
turn corners to a smile;
your gaze, a simile.

We lie, horizontal
counting constellations,
watching fireflies
swirl the scent of our love.

We don’t need words,
but you speak soft syllables,
anyway;
dance them
in the symmetry
of a poem.

I could fill pages
with the petals of our story,
compose a symphony;

notes resembling the melody
of my harp strings
when you twirl my hair
‘round your pinkie,
play pretty with my heart,

frolick in flowers
beneath our bare feet,
in breeze they sway
and tickle tendencies
to run; to silence time

to leave senses simmering
in the seamless chorus

of us.

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Love Letter #48: Unnatural

I roll over,
but he moves closer,
his fingers finding the softness
of cheeks;
the fondness in a gaze;

my feelings,
without even looking,

like the way he seeks me
in dreams
on a white horse, rides in,
his voice awakening me
at just the right moment;
with gentle kisses
on the forehead

to hush the fear;
to soften the blow.

It has been said that our closeness
is unnatural,
like how his hand feels empty
without mine inside it
and how I still cry,
surprised by the pink roses
behind his back
on Valentine’s day.

They don’t understand
that it isn’t the fluff;
the perfect pink petals,
or the romantic gesture,
but the sweet look on his face
that I am still so in love with.

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Déjà vu

Your name was on my lips
before I knew your eyes
and the way they melt into mine,

so that I must turn away,
blushing,
pink as the roses
hiding behind your back,

soft, like your heart.

We began this language of ours
with two notebooks behind a tree
exchanging syllables and glances

connecting the dots

between stars
and a jealous June moon

wondering why the deja vu’
beneath a weeping willow
and how our hands
seemed to have held before;
mine gently wrapped into yours,

belonging,

like words
inside a poem.

~

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Charcoal Outline

If shadows could speak,
mine and yours would converse
about the fragile life
​of daffodils,

the softness of constellations
and the way light billows
through strands of our hair;

silhouettes sleeping

within the length
of one another.

~

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Arranging Flowers

He didn’t carve initials
in that oak tree we lay beneath,
but, we tasted syllables.
rolling off the tongue,
from his lips to mine
and back again,
quenching our thirst
with the juice of poetry
dripping down pink curves;
fingers finding metaphor
within tangled limbs-
searching for alliteration
in a handful of wildflowers;
breaths meeting
in the middle
of love’s sentence

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Love Letter #37: Conception (Vignettes)

I.

I found you where the river meets willows
moons away from my loveliest imagination,
where jealous constellations
admire the conception of a love
expressed in glances away,
cheeks, blushing like roses
and the simplest twirl of tresses

with the loudest implications.

II.

Build me a castle
on the white beach
where you found me
a perfect sand dollar.

I don’t mind the twists and turns
we took to get there;
under vines, over hills
like our life;
glorious, uncharted,

reminiscent
of the unpaved road
to San Josef.

III.

Your breath, upon my neck
whispering like the breeze
just before the tide changes
and lips part
like the waves do
with a rush down my spine;
the same one I get
just before I close the door-

and the waft of your cologne settles
on the collar of my robe.

IV.

Did you ever notice
I leave my favorite pink lipstick
in the cup holder of your car,
and post-a-notes with a heart
in your lunchbag?;

Mementos
like the red box of letters
you sent me,
that I still keep close
even though you are near, now.

V.

I like how we sleep
closer than two could;
wrapped cocoon-like
interwoven limbs;
sheltered, like a second skin,
curves, valleys,
the metamorphosis of us.

~Day 22 of NaPoMo (a poem a day in April for National Poetry Month)

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Love Letter #36: Cinderella on a Tightrope

 

The warmth of you melts my fear;

inhibition, a puddle beneath my feet

as stray syllables fall from my lips

 

and the stars that dwell in your eyes

      align with mine

              in a certain symmetry

 

that clouds share with rain.

 

I have a sneaking feeling

that an adoration will reign

as butterflies encircle

 

an irregular heart- –beat

 

and love falls –

           in a downpour.

 

~

~Day 21 of NaPoMo (a poem a day in April for National Poetry Month)