"Am I in love? — Yes, since I’m waiting.” The other never waits. Sometimes I want to play the part of the one who doesn’t wait; I try to busy myself elsewhere, to arrive late; but I always lose at this game: whatever I do, I find myself there, with nothing to do, punctual, even ahead of time. The lover’s fatal identity is precisely this: “I am the one who waits."
"And if the other does not come, I hallucinate the other: waiting is a delirium."
He sleepsLike a falling leaf
In the breeze of autumn,
Waltzing to its placid whispers
Every sway a kiss
Culminating to a warm embrace
-Originally written 7/2/14
Inspired by a December eventoh yes, I miss you terribly, but I’d have to live with my poetry starting now, my poetry more than anything else…
"It wasn’t logic, it was love."
I knew what
real pain felt like
but I didn’t
until I saw the way
you looked at her"
"The conversation between your fingers and someone else’s skin. This is the most important discussion you can ever have."
"I’m always soft for you, that’s the problem. You could come knocking on my door five years from now and I would open my arms wider and say, ‘Come here, it’s been too long, it felt like home with you.’"