Saturday, April 12, 2014

El Corazón cursivo

All things go.  All things go.  How can it be both of us?  How is it the same?  Who knew there could be a love that is so mutual?  It's teaching me of the love I must love.  And it's a reflection of the love I'm made of.  How can this be true?  How can you want me like I want you?

When you're through with my heart don't tear it apart.  I give it to you and I trust you.

How long will you embrace me?
How long will this face be
so close you can almost taste me?

I'm asleep.
Asleep with words just leaking out.
There's a flood inside, though not of words.
There's a flood inside, I'm full of emotion.
Pick me up in your boat.
I'm drowning in your ocean.

I go crazy and somehow come back again.
I get lazy and work so hard again.
I fall asleep and it's hard to wake up in this reality.
Life is a dream and I imagine I'll wake up soon.

Don't leave.
There is love.

Love is enough.
Love is strong.
Love is vulnerability.
Love is like in the shape
of a sideways eight.
Love means yes
we'll wait.

You'll make it.
We'll make it.
I'll make it.

Examine my heart
and try not to scrape it.
It's been battered and bruised,
tattered and torn,
broken to pieces,
and often reborn.

These words are like longhand
from my heart;
they're so intricately connected,
so finely woven together.
They flow so freely
and my heart rolls out.
It's putty on pages
living love in stages,
earning silently its wages,
remembering intently
the words of the sages.

Don't leave.
Don't think.
Don't listen
to the words
not spoken.

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