my love

i knew where everything was in your kitchen, there was intimacy in that, i think placing myself amongst the clutter being one of your many things i'd browse your mugs  and write my name on your fridge in tiny magnetic letters so you'd always remember where i'd been i adored it, honestly everything in that red triangle house belonged to you at least partly,  including me shoes scattered across the hallway big black boots, loose laces, and my h&m flats this house was lived in, nobody could deny that it was cosy, vibrant and homely lovers scattered across the floor friends sat everywhere, blocking the door some of my favourite memories were in rooms full of people i'd never previously met, and i'll confess it was strange sometimes trying to put names to faces or words in mouths but your face would always stick out smiling in the crowd like sunshine amongst clouds, kissing you was like kissing the sun it was hot and hesitant more golden than gold you'd take me u...

  in case you ever foolishly forget; i am never not thinking of you nor is my heart ever not yearning for the comfort of your presence  as vita told virginia all those years ago words burned into the hearts of lovers you’ve reduced me to a thing of wants a foolish creature and a desperate one please, release me it’s been painful for an eternity i miss you endlessly more than i could have imagined  yet it doesn’t need repeating you know everything already you’ve always been far too clever,  beautifully clever whisper something sweet to me something wise, something wild plant seeds and watch them grow  until i’m able to finally know how the world looks through your eyes, maybe colours will seem brighter and the air more satisfying to breathe if i knew how it felt to love the way you do and be loved, the way you are, in the future someone will read these words and adore them in the same way we adore theirs, perhaps they’ll adore us too and be inspired to love human...

to be consumed by romance to be drowning in proof you'll find my body at the feet of Aphrodite  beaten and bruised by the pursuit of expectation gorging on pomegranates blood red i'll turn into poetry eventually that way you'll remember me as something a little bit more than a woman with a notes app and untreated neurosis  i refuse to die of a broken heart as if a Romantic like Keats  though twenty-five is generous the stars will see more of me yet

you’re heavenly; beautiful and unreachable celestial i’m dizzy; sometimes hopeless always romantic my head spins your laugh echoes through my mind and your eyes permanently fixed in-front of mine glassy; a reflection in the ocean viridescent  i’m lost at sea whenever they catch me hooked; i still can’t decide if i want to be set free or stay and compete my poems feel empty and incomplete  when they’re not about you

know you could put your head in my lap at your most vulnerable moment and we could sit in comfortable silence as my hands graze your hair  and stroke your face tenderly and without judgement until you feel safe and at ease in this quiet expression of trust and acceptance my fingers tracing your skin bringing enough warmth and human contact soft yet raw your emotions never have to leave  the comfort of my thighs as they welcome and take in all the harshness of the world until your soul is soothed and you need them no more

i carry a piece of you on the tip of my tongue it spills out sometimes and fills strangers ears creeping up on them like an echo the repetition keeps me sane in constant avoidance of the fear that you will eventually disappear if you cease to exist  in my nostalgic imagination and sometimes i'll swallow this tiny piece of you it'll slowly flow like honey through my veins to keep me warm as i lay here touch-starved in silence,  involuntary silence a mess of my own making loud echos turn to whispers as i'm hanging by a thread my memory works overtime to remember what you've said sometimes i wish you were softer so i have no time to overthink maybe it's me who needs to harden and stop seeing things in pink and red and endless tints my emotions get the best of me on occasion, i won't deny but with everything left so incomplete i look for answers in the sky so for now i'll keep my piece of you tightly on my tongue until i finally find out the things that until no...

 nothing feels more lovely than a sunday morning window ajar soft rain on the glass the smell of wet grass creeping through the gap half-awake eyes hazy body warm time eternal and gentle and oh so blissful this moment is revolving around the hand that i'm holding the world outside is grey but inside this room is golden everything a shape i can hardly make out anything other than the closeness of your mouth to mine as we sleep in perfect solitude on this lovely sunday morning that i hope never ends

its early ambiguously early birds are calling so i can tell its the morning but the sun is yet to wake up as are you, it's dark but i know you're there your warmth radiates into me unrelentingly but i'm grateful for it my eyes closed for a second yet hours passed it's quiet a nice quiet the backdrop of unwavering safety to just sleep with arms weaved together and fingers interlocked, and if knew this was the last time for a long time i would have held on a little tighter and kept you a little closer enjoying the ambiguity and the certainty that you were here right now at this in-between hour where time doesn't exist because at this moment neither of us know that after the sun rises and sets again everything will happen and we'll end up counting seconds and kisses and squeezing hands breaking down and calming down until everything becomes quiet again except this time i'm not grateful for it and everything is ambiguous ag...

  i wish i had more beautiful things to say my mind is full of beautiful things to say everything seems so much nicer than it did yesterday and i don't deny that you've had a part to play in this rosy tinted glow but I've got no proof to show because i cannot get the words out you understand what i'm on about my poetry feels lackluster compared to yours, it's difficult to comprehend how someone can write so wonderfully and speak so wonderfully and be, so wonderfully,  my puffy eyes and running nose are the antithesis of composed and yet everything is so much nicer than it was last week, in this hour in this second beauty beckoned  itself unto me through you, sitting on a swing set at sunset showing me your favorite songs and one's that reminded you of me i was yours entirely in that moment looking at the stars that i rarely get to see and you kissed me so carefully i thought you were scared you asked me if this was okay if i was...