These thoughts are worn from use.
They remain like book passages
that I have memorized with my fingertips.
Echoes of a name entwined
with my deepest core concerns.

I don’t know why,
have never known,
why my soul rises up to meet you.
Why your gaze reminds me of lifetimes passed.
How many times have I died loving you?

I waver between feeling foolish,
and familiar.
The heart doesn’t care how love translates
only that I decode its cryptic language,
without a single clue what to do with it
once it speaks.


Published by B

I am B (call me BB and I will gut you) I like daisies, books, and men who understand the wisdom of Kermit the Frog. I refer to my favorite person as TMW5T Why? because if he had 6 I'd call him TMW6T, duh!!

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