poetry

My Love. {poetry}

{via Tumblr}{Photo via Tumblr}

My love is late,

burns round the fire too long

and into the night,

dances with the stars

until she becomes one.

 

My love is lost

in dreams of the sea

and tales she hears in her sleep,

sinking into certain stories

until her own diminishes;

she no longer exists.

My love fades so quietly.

 

My love is unattainable,

would never reveal the songs of her soul,

for to be misunderstood

would break her into pieces.

My love is in pieces

sifting through the shoreline,

carried upon the current

tumbling down the hillside,

falling from the treetops.

 

My love is like a raindrop,

or a slowly fading cloud of smoke.

My love is momentum incarnate,

feeling, speaking,

seeing and knowing.

My love is forever flowing.

 

My love is a mistake,

taking her first steps,

breaking her first promise

faking her first orgasm.

My love is a wolf,

her howls pulsing

through a night sky,

breaking the silence

of midnight.

My love is a call,

a cry, a sigh,

there is no single language

she speaks in.

Her tongue is a tapestry

of all the lives

she lives in a day.

 

My love is eternal

and boundless

and breaking the rules,

and dancing in the middle

of a f*cking tornado.

 

I do not know

what to do with my love,

for she is hasty, lonely,

hopelessly wandering,

 always at her bitter end,

while constantly searching

for something more.

 

My love is thirsty,

directed by the dire need

for satisfaction,

but she is unquenchable.

My love is restless,

prying open every crevasse

of herself and others.

She will never settle

until she finds the light

that she so wildly emits.

 

My love is light,

but she does not know it yet.

She whirls and weaves

and leaves a wake

for all to see,

shimmering and standing out

from the rubble,

like a fleck of silver.

 

My love is a reflection

of the sea and its turning,

tossing and pulling,

the wind and its sailing,

sinking and rising,

fire in both

its fullness and emptiness,

earth and it’s steadiness.

 

My love is eternal,

flows through the cosmos

with intended direction,

then manifests herself

in each temporal conversation.

My love is unlike

anything I have ever seen,

for there are so many words

and pictures and places

I could place her within,

yet I could never know her.

My love is my muse;

both saves me and breaks me.

 

My love,

I love you.

 

 

*****

MarlyJeanRaised in Canada, Marly Jean is a restless rambler with a sacred yet sinful attachment to art. It is both her dark and her light; her muse and her addiction. In words she could never describe the feelings that hide far beneath the veil of her face… but she still tries. Vulnerability is the sugar sprinkled upon the canvas of a masterpiece; to expose the spaces she thought to be silent. Spending most of her time traveling, working with kids, making art and making love — her life mirrors what she feels so deeply within herself. She enjoys very long walks on the beach, writing poetry and short stories, reading tarot, painting murals, pencil crayon drawings, and sucking the nectar from each second of her life. If you were to go looking for such a person you would be wise to try the hillside, where the trees tower, or the sea… or her website.

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