I Wept

Four walls keep silent the narrative that I utter in whispery tones. I hold onto the remnants of her aura with longing for what was. Gold hoop earrings rest on my nightstand; the brush for which she groomed her hair lay somewhere strewn with long black strands. There was a time when I was not so filled with sentiment — there was a time when anger and indifference were absolutely prominent, but it was that evening that I kissed the place where she slept, and I wept. I unreservedly wept.


When we cry together, know that I am your protector, lover and strong shoulder forever. Never forget, that when it storms I am your shelter. The depths of love have shown me secret paths that have transformed my once hardened heart and have made me better. I mean every word in every vow made to you, down to the letter. I was broken; so shattered — I sought healing through many sexual encounters, but there was still an emptiness, though I had many lovers. True intimacy is so much more than fleshly pleasure. I held you and kissed you the first night. I admit, that I wanted you, but a beautiful transcendency took a hold of me, and unexpectedly I uttered through a sincere whisper, Let’s just talk more and get to know each other. I listened intently to your life story as we lied together, and you moved me like no other. Baby, I swear you moved me like no other. It was then that my soul stirred within me, and I said to myself silently, I love her; I truly love her.

To Know Beauty

The stillness of her sentiment is something unfathomably beautiful. An angel closes her eyes and is immersed in the rapture of deeply intimate thoughts, her head slightly tilted to the side — her hair draped gracefully like the branches and leaves of weeping willow trees nestled in the rapture of a spring breeze set over a peaceful stream that flows endlessly in wondrous dreams. Black silk rests on her feminine curves like snowcapped mountains graced with light snow undisturbed. Her spirit animal is the Crowned Eagle, soaring to that celestial place in the company of thousands of white winged angels. To look upon her and see only outer beauty is to see the surface of the sea but never dive into its depths to explore its prodigious mystery. She transcends in tranquility. The essence of who she is, is displayed silently. Gaze upon her glory; yes, gaze upon a woman who wept constantly but found her victory. See in her what others couldn’t see — close yours eyes, and breathe deeply. Dream with her; witness the gorgeous illustrations of her soul. View the writings of her heart where falling tears narrated the biography of her sorrow. See that she is truly beautiful. See that she is truly beautiful.

Beautiful Love

I was not worthy of such a thing that would find me and wrap my wretched coldness in its warmth, taking all of me and immersing my brokenness in its healing power unconditionally. In my fragile state, I did indeed see, but I couldn’t see clearly, and I foolishly pushed love away from me. I swore a solemn vow to never again allow passionate kisses upon my lips, lest I fell in love again only to be left emaciated in a desolate wilderness — but love is patient, and it sought me and though I lied listlessly in total decimation, gradually back together it brought me and took the raw diamond that is my soul and shaped me, and kissed me, and with tenderness, polished me relentlessly so that now I shine brightly. Now, in my eyes, there is a transcendent clarity that allows me to quickly distinguish true love from false pretense and vanity. Many lovers have said many beautiful words to me in the heat of our desire, but the essence of intimacy is much more than what is conveyed physically. In my moment of truth I was left devastated when I called upon those I thought had truly loved me, but reality is as cold as one thousand Siberian winters endured consecutively. I could never render anything to love and the depths of emotions that it has given me. Love, you are radiant in your beauty.

Shattered Mask

In my sorrow, do not ridicule me. Do not seek to question my heart’s sincerity. Do tears not run in mourning? Do I not keep her nestled in the depths of my soul for safe keeping? Am I not desolate in my grieving? Do my own tears not drown me from incessant weeping? Did I not kiss her face tenderly while she was sleeping? The glory of her beauty haunts me unmercifully — and to think love was within my grasp. Eyes behold my countenance as a whole man, because daily I wear the mask; but truthfully, I am deeply wounded and shattered like glass. I seek to be whole again, but every hour I am violently torn asunder again and again, and I am shattered like glass.

From the Heart

I had tried for so long to purge your memory from me, but in my attempt, I discovered that you were not only in my memories, but you are a part of me eternally. I say that I no longer love you, loudly, but I caress your face and kiss you in the depths of my spirit quietly. There was a time I told you that I wanted you to be happy, even without me, but now, perhaps selfishly, I want your happiness to be an immersion in me. My desolation takes me to an unforgiving and dark place where the hands of the clock move extremely slowly, mercilessly prolonging my misery. Rescue me, lest I drown in the deep cold waters of despondency. My life is forfeit lest there is love in it; in my tearful plea for love, I am passionate. In my brokenness, I hold myself together from the remnants of love that I draw on entirely too much — and I fear it fades away from me daily. In agony, the soul cannot lie; the truth must be professed. In my confession, I must say, there is an emptiness and a distinct pain that is relentless. Perhaps I will call on heaven’s archangels to come down and illuminate my darkness with celestial light. At night, I walk among the trees and search for her aura in the twilight. One thousand pink long stemmed roses are the beauty and fragrance of my utterances. Love, I wait on you with tears for you to embrace me once again. The length, scent, and texture of her hair alone moved me to emotion. True intimacy expressed in sensual darkness is more precious than diamonds. I hold many emotional letters of love in my heart that are unfinished, hoping that love will find me once again, and that my desolate fate will be rewritten.