love poems
Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.
Bones
All I could think about was fucking. The way hipbones look in compressed charcoal. The feel of paper sheets under bodies/ bones and skin. What if humans had been clothed in something less solid? Transparent. Wombs seen through panties. Sometimes I look at people. I wonder if their bones have been broken. Do they look like blinds? Long smooth and tapered. Does it sound like the grinding of gears when they move against each other? And we just can’t hear. I bet during sex they are quiet/ they are sweetly moving like homemade icing. Swallowing. (Can bones feel a swallow?) gentle jawline and a hushing. A swaddling of bodies and bones. Gleaning.
By Samantha Williams8 years ago in Poets
Beware of One's Beauty
Beauty, it comes in many terms...It could be soft, or sometimes frail. Love isn't lust and if it is, it's lust, dust and pixie dust. Now my words may seem to be unclear, but that is far from what is near. Love seems to have one meaning in a world of hatred, to be loved by another who is always near, why can't it be distance and it still beautifully unclear. With long lost love waits to appear with those of beauty secrets to hold so dear, wanting to tell them...I am near. Waited, and waited watching changes appear, to look out from inside and waiting for the time to arrive. To breathe and touch what you've waited for all these years, finally wanting to touch it, and realize that it's finally here. With a uniqueness of its own made for you, like as if you were made together, attached as two, waiting for your half to appear. Now don't get too close, for it's beauty far from what appears to the eye, it has thorns you know... so be careful, for its beauty is rare. Much more special then a diamond or pearl. So don't take it for granted, it may only appear in years or life time. So keep it hidden in plan sight, but beware of one's beauty, for it can disappear... Never to be seen again, not a peep nor a cry...Never to appear, you had one chance, and let it all disappear, for one small blow made the end come near...
By Rose With Thorns8 years ago in Poets
From the Ashes I've Become
"Just when you think you've burnt me to the ground, I will put myself back together from the ashes I've become... I will never trust my heart in another's hands, unless they're my own. Maybe you can break through to my heart? But you see, sometimes it's hard as stone..
By Brooke Coffell8 years ago in Poets
