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Kiss her hard
A little harder than she's use too.

Let her know that she's the one
you want to come home to.

Make love like kids,
in the back seat of a Ford.

Say her name when loving her,
give her something more.

When the hell did loving
become so civil?

When did it become
a Saturday night chore?

Can't we just do it on a Tuesday,
how about right here on the floor!

**** Baby!!!

Don't you know I still love you?
Is this water still water
in the photo taken a moment ago,
or is it reflecting the sky
in a dark mirror of wishes,
drifting through the mind?

Do the thoughts wear the words?
Do they embrace stillness and truth?
There is no single pattern to interpret.
Alternative facts appear credible.

What was predictable, a sweet certainty,
became a distant mirage of memories,
touching softly reality and its interpretations,
sealed tightly in the crystal bottle,
sinking slowly into oblivion without regrets.

Canceled words are so infinite and quiet,
bringing a deep indigo relief,
inexpressible and so beautiful.
No doubts. No screams.
Just a peaceful self-reconciliation.
Friendship offered, warmly met
Creating such a bond
Melding a relationship
From a casualness to fond.
It all invoked a strong regard
Which built a warming grace
Incorporating responsibility
For each other to embrace
A crucible of affection,
A passion to enfold
Anticipations joy to feel
Each smiling face, as gold.
Built a nice dependence
That each other will be there
Should the slightest shadow  
intervene
To cause each other care...

But then, just only yesterday,
Where we arranged to meet
In that cutest little cafe
On that sweetest little street...
I waited for your smiling face
To happily appear
But alas, you never showed at all
Confused, I shed a tear.
Then your cellphone kept on ringing
As I tried call after call
But alas, it went unanswered
With no messages at all.
Distraught,
I caught you at your door
A distance on your face,
The coldness in your startled eyes
Cruelty
Put me in my place.
I reeled away in torment,
Sad realization sewn,
That love had flown right out the door
Leaving hurt and I,
Alone.

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Thought I would delve into some ancient recollections of the tragic  superficiality of some fledgling relationships, past.
Reasons for the heartbreak range from  reluctance to commit to a realization of a differentiation of the social mix.
Reasons for a sudden and cruel abandonment rest primarily, though, on the level of personal integrity of the participants....as to whether or not they have the "chutzpah" to see it through.
A chaos of multiple languages
overloads my system,
and the blackout hits hard.

An hour is still an hour,
or is it transforming into something else?
In French, they say l’heure, so sensual
Italian ore speak in tasty sounds.

But what if I want to choose
Spanish tres horas?
I miss the Polish godzina so much
moving my mother tongue's rhythm.

I need more space in my brain
My head is so heavy,
My heart enjoys moments like
a child on a playground

Making my language smoothie
I feel chromatic delirium.
Spinning through a galaxy into a black hole.
I should have listened to my mother
telling me, Agnes, do one thing!
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