I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
How long can this story last
ReplyDeleteI thought I could keep the memories of you alive in my heart with these words
But time and distance are now fighting those memories
Time and distance now urge my soul to move on
Their logical arguments that there is nothing left, nothing to cling to, nothing to hope for are too strong
They say, "Will she be there in the morning beside you wrapped around you as your heart desires"? Will she ever be?
My soul aches and answers, "No".
It wasn't meant to be. This is the greatest heartache, that she is gone.
The question I now ask myself - Was this woman that mesmerized me with her beauty just a dream. A dream conjured by my saddened soul to forget the past.
Maybe she was. Her beauty, her smile, her laugh. I cannot feel them anymore. Sadness.
But surely I did hold her hand. Soft, delicate, gentle.
Yet, she left without a kiss
How can I love a dream
I woke this morning and you were not there. Sadness
Surely this is the end