not a poet, just poetic.

oh how my love, my heart feels bruised
if oh it couldn’t write, what it felt for you
for even a day

between the pauses and oh the silences
there exists, oh my love

romance;

where in oh my love, i felt parts you
you were insecure about

kissed softly, the dead to you

caressed the tender, held together; the broken

mended the dust to your lips
as oh my love,
i felt it on mine; warm

oh how
as our tongues entwined

i felt it coming

a first;
i heard you spoke
i saw you express

a smile, in your eyes
your eyes, speaking the innocence and simplicity; dressed
your lips, murmuring a few words of love; shy

oh my love, they all felt beautiful

they all felt sweet.

oh how writing
under your gaze, began to feel
more intimate, than oh my love
it has ever felt

maybe it’s a part of you,
that my words seems to memorize in them
which makes them feel closer; more beautiful than before

oh how my love, i don’t seem to care;
if feeling you on me, with your hand in mine
sounds fictitious

for oh this dream of mine, has made me forget
there was chaos around; or that i was cold

with and around you, is not what i seek or need, my love
it is but where i feel peace

it is where it feels different

something i probably have never felt before

oh i’ll still struggle; paddling through storms

but oh my love, i’ll be smiling

for i’d have you.

for oh i’d have all of you
and who you would bore

from me; in you

with us; together

oh my love, these words that i write
does not color just the present
but also the future, it holds in them
that oh my love, i dreamt of

and oh i’d never be able to undo

any of it

for they will always feel beautiful to me; somewhere

even if we turned sour on each other.

oh my love, i imagine
as to oh how would it feel every morning
waking up; to a new shade to you

that oh would reside in my eyes

making love in the silent nights;

cuddling in the early mornings;

oh how beautiful will it be, my love?

to cherish
being parents, to a few
we gave birth to; adopted

all alike
in a way, we would embrace
we would love
we would give all of us

for their happiness.

i wrote

to say, what i couldn’t

to say, once

out loud; openly


only to maybe come back to it, later

someday

caring not

regretting nothing

for the thought of someone sweet such as you
with whom oh my love, i’d have a few daughter’s
is something that oh my love, i’ve always wanted

oh this, my love
that you read

was the dream, that oh came to me
unknowingly


with you, beside me.

oh my love, even if this journey of me and you

lasts within; poetry

oh that alone is fine

for i wrote it all

as if i had lived it;

as if it was but my story

as if it was my present

with love


nazuk

oh how my love, i see you wearing
the sky amidst your eyelids
and oh the sunset on your lips
that oh my love, is home
to the sweetest smile
that oh my love, i’ve ever felt

oh how the simplicity to your eyes
speaks reflections, just like the one behind you
for oh my love, it is the light in you
that gave birth, to what we know today as; the moon

oh how my love, you seem to soothe, all of me
with the heart
that oh my love, beats in you
and oh how my love, all it took
to feel all that I never really do
was just by holding your hand in mine

and that alone seemed enough
for me to love;
for me to write.

oh my love, we may bow; to not one
nor we may belong to, within the same barriers
that may divide this land, where we live in

but oh my love
nothing man made
will let the feeling of love waver in me
for anyone; no matter where they reside

oh my love, let not our conflicting narratives
let this poetry of mine
feel any different
just because two oh so close, never could become one

oh my love, these words that oh i write
are not known to all that lies in me
for no vein, could carry
them, outside the heart

what brought them to life, was the quill with which i wrote
as i felt more, oh i wrote more
for oh the palm that held your smile
told me all about you, and oh my love
i couldn’t resist, but write

oh my love, this poetry of mine
may become one of very few
i’d write in a book of my own
with a place, just for you; somewhere

once blank; now fragrant
for that is how beautiful, you feel
that is how i see you; someone worthy

to whom, I’d leave nothing a curiosity

for oh I’d build with you

raise, with you

die, beside you.

with love