Tonight I can write the saddest verse.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her countless times under the endless sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her?
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.
This is all.
In the distance someone is singing. In the distance…
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My eyes try to find her as though to bring her near.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night that whitens those same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that’s certain… but how I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her hearing.
She will be another’s. As she was once of my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that’s certain… but maybe I love her.
Love is so short. forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one, I held her in my arms.
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
I saw your letter today. The one about you and i in your dream. It had been lost in the mail. I hope you know that I did love you.
how you smile just before you close your eyes.
The soft whispers of your voice when you just woke up.
The warmth of your skin.
The softness of your lips.
Your cold feet.
Your dilated pupils staring straight through me, surrounded by the sea of colors that are your eyes.
Your hair between my fingers.
The landscape of your body.
The funny way you solve an itchy nose.
The way you catch your lips between your teeth. The way you catch mine.
Your crazy dreams.
The way you sway… when you walk, when you dance, when you woo me.
The way you play with my fingers.
The way you make me feel.
How strokes of light in a dark room outlined the contour of your body, as your breast fought with gravity.
The way you speak to me. Of me.
The smiles and <3’s in your messages.
The way you tell a story.
The way you sing.
The smoothness of your skin, turned prickled under my fingers.
The sight of you beside me.
His beloved must stop being a damsel in distress and become a princess fighting to break free.
Prince charming shattered his shield last battle. He is exposed now, and this time the fight might kill him. He is willing to fight, and die trying. He needs help, trough death he will not reach her.
I’ve slept more this past few days. I realize today, as I struggled to make myself go back to bed, it’s because I can escape reality in my sleep. Dreams seem so much sweeter than the conflicts of real life. In my dreams, I have no deadlines, in my dreams there is no projects due, in my dreams I have you. But, reality is the only place I can change what I don’t like and make a difference, and so I will.