Writing My Emotions 

    

If my emotions
were in words
if I were to explain,
it’s like reading poems
with you, next to my bed
when you come in the middle 
of the night,
Like a silent butterfly.

Your my novel, nourishing 
a new line loving like this,
and when you rise, flourishing 
and when I shine, 
you shine too.

Writing with detailed ambitions
in verses; like love notes
to our destiny and to the reverse
if you write love, and if I write it
let’s write write it together. 

Writing only for myself, but 
what only a nonfiction can satisfy;
it if is not to love someone so deeply
In life; what else is there….
that’s what is like,
to live even after death, 
It’s when two souls survive 
share the same thoughts. 

To capture humanity
in a prose, life imposed
like life’s pictures frames,
nights we spent talking, 
in the window; In London
words are memory’s remembered,
still waiting to be written,
and some stories 
still await to be told. 



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