Explore Poems: Love

I don't know what it is,
but I distrust myself
when I start to like a girl
  a lot. It makes me nervous…

The guy with dreads, in nothing but boots,
stands shoulders above the passing men.
A few dart for him,…

Today everything
in this smoky love
seems false to me
from the two glazed pools of your eyes
      where…

I think that I shall never know
Why I am thus, and I am so.
Around me, other girls inspire
In men the rush…

I think, no matter where you stray,
That I shall go with you a way.
Though you may wander sweeter lands…

If love be staunch, call mountains brittle
Love is a thing will live
So long, my dear,––oh, just the little
While water stays in a sieve.

Yea, love is deathless as the day
Whose death the stars reveal;
And love is loyal all the way,
If treachery...

Come, let us plant our love as farmers plant
A seed, and you shall water it with tears,
And I shall weed it with my hands until
They bleed. Perchance this buried love of ours
Will fall on goodly ground and bear a tree
With...

What if you come
Again and swell
The throat of some
Mute bird;
How shall I tell?
How shall I know.
That it is so,
Having heard?

In our first house-let in London, she drew on the tablecloth to create
a calligraphic feast. Our friends…

I know it won't be received
Or sent. The page will be
In shreds as soon as I have scribbled it.
Later. …

A man by the name of Skinner becomes famous
for keeping caged
        pigeons, whom his clock feeds or starves
        at random. Their tiny twitching heads exaggerate until...

It's important she says that summer
Flatten itself against autumn. That it keep Insisting yes yes it'…

tongue / rim a soft hole—tender meat trim—
mind leitmotiv (doe, moss, petal, vein,
hart, hilt, waist, …

It’s 9/11 the first time you stay.
In the morning you bring Taliban poems back to bed.
I drink cardamom…

Tiffany,
I’ve gotten used to sunlight with you,
but no pressure! Just—
spring doesn’t hurt as much anymore…

in the building two women’s restroom & in the strangest places
i want to tell you the most mundane things…

and it ends, of course, in fabulous heartbreak, like anything—
it’s not an if, but when—so the trick …

To all the boys
who asked me
to dance and to 
all the boys to whom
I said yes and to 
all the steps we took…

My teacher says of their cat, now gone
missing. In his absence, everything is still.

The small, silvered…

Loved you since I was little, on the playground break-time
-brawled with you and your mismatched cuffs…