AIMER, C’EST MOURIR (to love is to die)

My dear in pink
I love your color
I go, you speak.
My love never say
la belle damsel
regrets.

So soft, agreed
So nice we know
your words are so
inside of me —
la belle damsel
regrets.

I see your eyes
I feel your thighs
It’s a deep vanity
we’re lost for words
this account for love

So long a time
a space to say:

“Ever you speak
then to cry we laugh
we know in time we kiss
again, so to speak

To know a space so well
What it was and is
and came to be;
and willed to be
so i listen, you speak

la belle damsel
regrets.

:: 12-14-2017 ::
:: Rev: 02-24-2018 ::

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

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