The tongue of sweet spring is your
remembrance of time : an embrace
of springtime is love and memorytime
and veserial sweet time
(the world will die/and Souls live\
the very Spirits singing in lovely
bar chords: as once lovers come
and then go but two perfectly alone
while weeping no one else alive \
breathing the beauty of a sky and
such a sun ; as how we both never knew
that no other ever breathed : so mamy
various forms of love and yes.
That pieces of falling of love as
tiny darting and floating . . .
is the quietly screaming words
saying, “I LOVE YOU.”
:: 09.21.2023 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 