Who are you to doubt your perfection, who instilled the idea that you are incomplete and that fear is healthy in all things; including your dreams and your beliefs.

She follows the sun
Like a cat lying in the grass
Or a flower lilting its head to the sky

Or maybe the sun follows her
With the wandering gaze of an observer
Inquiring her every whim

Like an adoring child, it chases her every step
Peers through windows
And on mornings, alights her breath

It wonders how one can walk such a life
Where warm wrinkled clouds
Never give way to night

my love language is silence
written into the script:
moments of lapsed conversation
where all is tranquil and serene.
or when we forget our lines and sit
in hushed reverence,
allowing one another’s stage presence
to wash over us like the backlights.
invisible audiences hold bated breath
waiting for a twist, a shock
but a twist, we have not rehearsed
instead we allow the unscripted silence
to wash over us in reverent bliss
our conjoined souls just content
allowing our minds to diverge
as long as we are together in the silence.

People said she's so... great
I had to see for myself... bait

and I saw what they said
and I am fond of it

She said she's so...concupiscent
I had to see for myself... contentment

and I felt what she had said
and I am fond of it

I said she's so... enticing
I had seen for myself... volatile

and I experienced for myself what I said
and I am all alone

Once more.

Press your lips against mine
And let us allow time to take a rest
As the reds and greens of the traffic lights
Caress our cheeks while we pass silently in the night.
I’ll let you take my hand in one of yours
And I’ll let you hold my heart in the other.
Breathless. Light. Euphoric.
I am drowning in the taste of you.

And I can't help but find myself
Eagerly waiting for a once more.

Life is not short.
It is the longest thing you do.
So don't hurry the flower to bloom.
So it can live its life peacefully,
without someone waiting for them to die early.