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Tonight I am sitting around the fire that I lit
by burning all those poems I wrote for you.
And I swear it looks so beautiful as the flames
touch the stars just like I thought
my words would touch your heart.
softly I SPEAK in sweetest
whispers TO THEE, fondly,
truly. AND devoted am I to prove
that I love THEE by Jove!

the universe IS HER, center stage
above AND below.
for SHE IS THEE, my little dove
snowy white AND pure,
her beauty to be admired.
she is the one TO WHOM I REFER. with glee.

I ask God, COULD SHE BE with me
for AS MUCH as an eternity?
She has wrecked INTO ME so I am a wreck.
It seems AS I AM INTO HER? We shall see.
If yes AND IF SO, I want her
to respect THEN THIS PLEA FROM ME which comes sadly
now WITH WOEFUL  but happy
falling TEAR, hopefully my
affections WILL NOT GO TOO LONG being that
call that goes UNANSWERED HERE, that would be
regrettable.
I pray FOR HER SILENCE to go away
perhaps because it HURTS to be forgettable.
Yet it BUT IS what it is.
Such beauty is RARE. I must admit.

SO FAR AWAY!       YET SO NEAR!

We are where we are
BUT I WISH YOU WERE NEARER, DEAR!

BECAUSE it is in
EACH DOMINION
that ON SUCH OCCASION
you MUST UNWIND, your soul
SO AS TO
soley BE  a sole
fragrance that is REBORN IN THE MORNING SHINE, this
day and the next, RETURNING AS GLORIOUS
AND AS FRESH AS THE NEW DAY SKY, that is my wish.
AND you
THEREUPON SHOULDST CARRY ON upon
a dream WITHOUT IMPERFECT MOAN
OR a mightier
SIGH. of loveliness.

I PLEAD WITH THEE TO MANUMIT
YOUR TIGHTENED CLASP
THAT BINDS, you sadly in slavery.
Now REST YOUR WEARY
HEAD A BIT ON MINE,
AND EASE INTO PLEASANT REVERIES. with only me.

AFTER ALL, THE DUSK you trust
HAS COME rightly
TO GIVE REST TO THEE,
AND I AM but what I am,
YOURS AND YOURS AM I nightly
**-I AM RESTFUL SLEEP.
Read the all caps in bold first, then read the poem as a whole.
Dreaming, is Key
Wishing, planning, becoming
Hard to figure out
Carving your way
In a world of vast array

Try a few things
Learn, grow, fail ...
Fall along the way
get up; go again
Never give up
The moon witnessed them.
There was great intimacy.
Not physically.
Not sexually.
Their hearts wrapped around each other's fingers.
Their words caressed their empty voids.
There was no denial that the moment was surreal.
It seemed too good to be true.
Then again, all good things come to an end.
When was the last time someone touched you?
No, not in-between thighs or chest.
When was the last time your heart was touched?
In the background were victory noises of strangers that seemingly depicted the joy in their smiles.
They didn't have to say it.
Their dead cigarette butts and weeds that were stuck on their skin were witnesses.
It was pure bliss.
A blessing-
that's what they feel towards each other.
This is not a poem about lovers.
Soulmates come in various forms.
Love comes in many perspectives.
Sometimes, soulmates don't stay together forever.
Sometimes, they part.
Sometimes, they don't.
It is all in their hands.
The same hands the cold wind kissed.
For the warm to match with the cold.
For the broken to find it's missing pieces.

( FAH )
 Dec 2014 Tony Scallo
DC raw love
ARE WE POETS, WRITERS
OR
ARE WE JUST HURTING INSIDE
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