Raven hair and blinded eye,
Maggie, with locks let low
floating on prodigal zephyrs,
breezes communicating their fickleness
with invisible fingers.
Their attributes far more poignant
than the fading, rusty sun,
and the crimson rays
that descend on your pale cheeks.
Biting at the cold, at worlds unknown,
We grasp for connection.
"What does the sunset look like?"
I place her thin hand on my heart, "This
beat, this warmth, this is the rhythm
of the cosmos."
Alot of love poems, it is a bit sickening, but also kinda fun. I used to try to do love poems and they were terrible (these might be too, but they seem ok to me, right now). I do not know what has gotten into me, I do not want a relationship right now, but maybe something inside me is longing for that kind of connection. I am my own puzzle.
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