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I want you to like me.
I want you to like me
not as a flower
you pluck,
watch shrink
back before beauty;
back to earthen dust.
I want you to like me
not as a lust
of pretty imagination,
returning from the sea of bed
that never does not end
in divorcing thoughts
from two to ones.
I want you to like me
not as the dead
you pour hugs for
from watery eyes that look behind.
The dead,
whom speak with you
via angels
untranslatable.
No.
I want you as my friend.
To walk beside me all my life
and grab the part of innocence that hasn’t died,
with your friendly face,
so
we never have to look around
to find rest in each other's space.
© All Rights Reserved
not as a flower
you pluck,
watch shrink
back before beauty;
back to earthen dust.
I want you to like me
not as a lust
of pretty imagination,
returning from the sea of bed
that never does not end
in divorcing thoughts
from two to ones.
I want you to like me
not as the dead
you pour hugs for
from watery eyes that look behind.
The dead,
whom speak with you
via angels
untranslatable.
No.
I want you as my friend.
To walk beside me all my life
and grab the part of innocence that hasn’t died,
with your friendly face,
so
we never have to look around
to find rest in each other's space.
© All Rights Reserved
