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A Song Unrequited
My Love, you do not exist.
We lay together on a bed of clouds
And baby’s breath.
I fall through, into
The grass outlying the track
I have run far too many times
I have broken the cycle, but
Now standing on the outside
Watching
The bustling pedestrian peoples
Going about their days as
Though they amongst
Seven billion people
Have somewhere to be
That can be considered
Important.
But we as humans do not
Default to this altruistic perspective,
When I dream, I dream of
You and I
All that can be
If
Si
Le conditionnel
I lay dormant
Daydreaming.
We could share the warmth
If time did not enjamb
Himself in the alignment
Of things,
If my voice were not
Choked.
Forward I look
Over clocks and dials
Return my heart to flesh
Light shines through boards
Incubating air that begs for
Your love and an
Apt repair to my lost composure
I don’t know when it began, but
I know that for six weeks
I had been ready to tell you,
But I wish
I dream,
I plead,
That I could say that my love for you is
Unlike a rose of salt, topaz,
Or arrow of carnations,
But like a never blooming flower.
My verse pales in light
Of you
In light of
The song of despair
White bees know
I try my best
I am Florentino
Holding onto promises
He made himself as
The leaves fell from the trees
Watching his beloved pass on
Her way.
You claim you croak, but
The whole race sings in
Sonorous song, though
We all feel as if it were just
The hummingbird and the rose,
San Juan nearby,
And we wade into
The rippling water
As midnight moonlight
Chases fears away.
I brush along
The soft river, pressing my face
Below the surface to wash
Myself clean.
I fall in, and at the bottom
Pass through to find
The colt bolting through
The wood at the break of dawn
I try to ride along, but
My shirt is pulled
And I know, I cannot
Stare forever at mirrors
Wishing to find what
Will never be there.
So I dress in red
And scowl my face.
When I am not your lover
I smother you most.
My restless heart and wily mind
Fall prey to obsession.
My verses run to stanzas
More bountiful than
Hairs on the heads of the people
Of the world,
With the worth of
Half a franc each.
I see a fountain
And the water runs dry,
The poet wrote words at
It’s base
With roses
Pink, red, white, black
Birth, passion, wisdom, death.
I lay in the pasture waiting
To end my grazing
Wishing to wander,
I do not wish this on you.
My love, I do not wish to
Weigh you down, or
Make myself to be another
Worry for you,
I write my song to
Remedy
You and I.
Oh, how are you not yet
Drowned?
Drowned in the downpour of rain,
Words soft and gently soaked
In pain.
The strings in the chord
Stand separate, though ring
With the same music,
And I wish,
And sing for you,
Though it maybe
A song unrequited.
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It's a long love poem.
Enjoy...