It is only Love
You are my love and I could spendall of the fragile meanings, compiling
them into boxed memories,
the early morning kiss,
the sad tears of departure.
Arguments left unresolved
and late night calls that stretched
and I woke wretched in the morning.
Too much wine, too much of everything,
to fit into seasons, each one brighter,
a lighter you and slighter me.
We've grown in impatience
and I've snatched rolls and coffee,
always on the run,
you, the sun of my existence,
my persistent lover who does
not let me rest, pause between breath
as hot rays beam down
and our sweat is washed away,
drowning in most turbulent seas
of she and he, until who is me
and who are you, intertwined
and indistinguishable as window nets
to keep noon and moon at bay.
If I could answer all our questions
and give to you, just one date
but I fear lateness is a trend
and some hearts will never mend.
I have loved beyond all call,
waiting moments until I fall
and we hear dulcet tones,
that sing for you yet
drone in monologue that
in times I may respond.
You and I, wishing
The snapping whishh of
blinds as a ticklish breeze
plays down this skin of mine.
I whisper in the spaces
'It is only love and love alone.'
Poetry by Elle
Read 832 times
Editors' choiceWritten on 2009-05-19 at 10:24
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text|
|
|
Editorial Team |
|
Achernar |
|
melanie sue |
|
NicholasG |
|
salem |
|
Eli |
|
Chris Fernie |
| Texts |
 by Elle Latest textsTwo Little CatsHills Not the End Cinders Oh perfect Day |
Increase font
Decrease