I was about to say goodbye, but
Turning, there was something in your face
the way the corners of your mouth turned up
Something about seeing you reflected in me reflected in you
As you stared into my eyes, and wondered:
Why do I love you?
Something about the way how
Your laughter fills the world with roses
White roses, under the soft white fur
Of a dying Romeo
There is something in knowing
Will come to love these words
And that something is that
You will remember me
The way I remember every moment:
Whether I was beautiful,
I was scared.
Because these are the types of moments that lovers share.
The way when you felt so good
You couldn't help but kiss me
Because you wanted me to know
What you thought I might never understand.
But you see, my dear:
I know the way you feel when I touch your face,
And the way you feel when I kiss your palm.
The way you felt when you gasped
At how good you make me feel.
These words don't have to be good.
They don't even have to be a poem.
These words are love, and that alone
Will sustain them.
Perhaps We Were far too Early
And perhaps now, it is far too Late.
But as we've said before...
Neither of us has really ever known the difference.
So many things left to say
That I will never say;
But I hope this says
What I needed to say.
When I remember you pressed against me,
When I remember the way you cried in my arms,
When I remember you saying you wish I was the last thing you saw each night
And the first thing you saw each morning...
And I compare it with the blur of my tears in the dark
And the way my smile fades when I wake every morning from dreams of you...
It was still the best thing I have ever had.
So much more to say,
But no more room to say it.
So this is the end of what was.
I love you.