Come to me.
Why must you ruin this moment?
You are burdened with thought.
Burdened with the past
and expectations of the future.
You are burdened with your self.
Cast these aside
by laughing at yourself.
And love,
for what more is there than to love me?
Take me now
and let it be heaven for us.

Love is a snowflake for no two are ever the same.

All kinds of people read poetry: revolutionaries, scholars, sentimentalists etc. But above all else, lovers read poetry. Why? Because we fell in love. And then we fell in love with love.

Lovers dream of one more embrace.
One more kiss.
One act of love, no matter how small.
For in loving, lover and beloved
emptied themselves.
Now,
they look for their oasis
like men engulfed in flames.
Even filled to the brim,
they will never satiate.
For they continue to leak, these
cracked vessels.
How else did love seep through?

The only thing necessary in this world is love. Everything else is secondary.

When you are
here,
God is
near.