Not a word, her eyes pierce my soul.

Sharing poems & thoughts, one redacted word at a time.

Not a word, her eyes pierce my soul.

They paced the moment gradually yielding to feelings. He loved none but her.

The light around her rare magic, light of wonder - turning life and sorrow to song.

It was marvelous to discover that I did not love. I dare say, I seemed all tenderness before you: But the depth of the absurdity - of genuine idiocy, that I could love. I have avoided this.

Sometimes I can't stand how I love you. All of me wild, deep, desperate I am yours, don't you know?

I have to write with all my love.

The Picasso of my soul was love. The girl I love.

On the porch laughing in my arms, flashes of her smile - and kissing at midnight.

I want twisting, burning love, like madness.

I found him as beautiful as a dream. My head ran from morning til night. Ah, the poetry I'd written.
