I cannot keep feasting
on the memories of you—
you have left me droplets,
mere crumbs of your essence.
Come, feed my soul.
With love's sweet fare—
a tender touch,
a gaze so rare—
in your embrace
my spirit flourishes,
like flowers bathing
in the marrow's light.
Let thy words
be honey on my tongue,
a melody softly sung.
In shadows cast
by longing's fire,
your absence stirs
a deep desire.
With every heartbeat,
whispers call—
a love so fierce
it conquers all.
Though wars may rage
and tempests roar,
my heart, my dear,
is yours to soar.
In stolen moments
time stands still,
a promise forged,
a sacred thrill.
Come—
ignite the spark we share
with tender glances,
oh so soft, oh so rare.
Your laughter dances on the breeze,
a melody that puts my soul at ease.
To be without you is to roam—
a wanderer lost, far from home.
The chains of silence weigh me down;
in dreams of you, my heart will drown.
Yet hope remains,
a guiding star—
a love like ours
will travel far.
With keys of trust,
unlock the door—
like Romeo and Juliet's embrace,
a tale of love
that time won't erase.
So take my hand,
let's break the night
and weave our story
in love's pure light.
With every glance,
the world's anew—
a symphony played
in shades of you.
Each heartbeat echoes
timeless refrain,
in this web spun
of joy and pain.
For in your eyes
I found my home;
in the quiet hush
no need to roam.
With every moment
I choose this bliss—
in the art of love,
a stolen kiss.
Let them say
what love should be—
for in your heart
I'm wild and free.
Together we dance
in life's embrace—
a modern classic,
a sacred place.
In a world
that often judges and scolds,
I found solace
in the warmth you hold.
Too much for some,
not enough for others—
yet with you,
life seems damn near perfect.
Let us wander through the streets,
hand in hand,
side by side—
with every shared glance
my heart swells with pride.
Each secret confession
shared in a whisper—
I feel compelled
to tell you all my secrets.
You're the poem I wrote,
the song left unsung,
an anthem of promises
just waiting to be strung.
In gardens of passion,
the sweetest, most simple moments—
it's you that I miss:
the way the moonlight
dances in your eyes.
