My crazy attempt at love poetry: #2! I've been doing literature; studying texts and poems lately, so, me being me, I had to, at least, try my luck at it. Result? Failure. Complete, utter failure. I tried to make myself sound "mature", tried to inject myself with that sense of... age-old... antiquity... but, alas: the "s" in loser stands not for "success", but for "stupidity". How stupid am I to write something I have no understanding of? Something I have no passion for? The answer to that -- very. Haha.

I took pleasure,

first, in the way he held me

arms wrapping,

as if i was some sort of gift

meant for royalty

loved him

second,

in the way he would say my name,

tender lips grazing the soft edges

of my feverish cheeks,

long, graceful fingers

swooping my face upwards,

brushing me carefully,

as if i was some sort of great art

and he would hold me there

in his embrace.

with one look he made me

weaken, tumble and fall

flat on my back,

eyes wide,

breath short and ragged,

watching,

for he would look at me in that certain way

and there, he had it

had me,

all to himself

and he knew

(oh, yes. he was very certain)

That in those moments,

or whichever moments relevant,

i would allow it

allow anything

the breaking of my mind, my body

my soul.

i am not a gentle person,

not a leaf-lover or holder of hands,

am not romantic

will never be soft and sweet

like those precious girls

dressed in earthly feminity

and godly grace

but for him

for him,

i am willing

and i would allow it

for him,

i would be that porcelain doll

in the antique window

that porcelain doll i had

broken

many years ago.