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Mulitdicipinary Writer
Category: Poetry
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Honey,that’s what it tasted likewhen you kissed me in your hotel room; like honeyon an aircraftwhere the airis so thinit makes my headlight. Loving youmade me feel that high. You mademy lonely forget itself. You mademe believehome was neithera place nora person. Before leaving,I wanted to tell you:of all the places you have been,I wanted…
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I don’t like milk only with coffeeand mainly inround cups thatremind meof the directionmy head spins inwhen youtalk to me. My head,and heartretired whenyou almostkissedmein the street. My kneesrefuse tohold my bodyin protest thatyoushould beholding me. I want my bodynext to your bodywith nobodyaround. Won’t youmove intomy heart? I wantto forgeteverybodythat rented itbefore you.
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My fortune cookie told melove is the only true adventureand I understood then how I never wanted to arrive anywhere but the moment I met you. I remember wanting to builda home there, when you calledme for the first time. I couldn’t sleep for days thinkingthis is probably what everybody elsedreams of when they dream of love. …
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What I would wear for youBesides my heart on my Sleeve, I don’t know. What things I would say,I forget the minuteYou say the sweet thingsYou say often. Where this will go,What road we’ll follow,Excites me. Every street signIn the city of my heartHolds directionsFor you to findWhat you came hereSearching for. There in the place…
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What do you call it whena heart puts up a signthat says, “Sorry, we’re closed.”[I want to take backevery love poemI ever wrote forother people.] What do you call it whenyou see yourself inthat someoneyou can’t seem toshut up about? [My hands don’t knowwhat to do without you…] What do you call it whenyour head…
Dali 