But it was so easy to love me...

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I only had to hear from your lips

a phrase of love,

or have loved me silently

as one loves God


To love me...

It would have been sufficient that you moistened my body,

navigated between my lips and my back,

seen a tiny gesture that would teem my soul,

and as a desired psalm,

love me again and again

until feeling the fire entering the arena of my skin


To love me...

it would have been sufficient to create a minute of your time,

trap me among your restless fingers, from March to the ambrosia of my lips

and as a gift of time...

one more sleepless night feeling you embracing my silence


To love me...

all you needed was to take off the nails

of my crucified heart;

the dimmed night,

the vanished time in bed,

your hurtful words,

the nonexistent kisses


Without you my days die in agony,

talking to myself,

gradually saying farewell to the Aurora


What good is love

when it is full of loneliness,

of hard winter roads,

of aging appointments?;

and my life became anguish

and anguish an abyss of what never was


Your love filled with me with forgetfulness,

filled me with lies, disaffection;

even sliced through the veil of my heart


I’ll cry only one tear, because loving you from afar is my conviction...


But it was so easy to love me...


© Noris Roberts

love poem

◄ Remembrance...

By chance... ►


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Jackie Phillips

Sat 24th Jan 2015 03:47

Like the poem but disagree with your idea of love. Love is the hard words, the honesty of what a person truly is. The hurt. The lies. Yet still loving, fogiving without forgetting.

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