I Don’t Love You. {poetry}
I don’t love you
With a fairy tale love anymore,
Or the sweetness of the first Parisian kiss,
And the crawling of the passion after staring at you.
I love you
With the bitterness left behind
in the shadows of our peaceful pasts.
I don’t love you
Because of your beautiful eyes,
The most stunning anyone has ever seen,
Or your perfect body that shakes my very core.
I love you
Because the moonbeams have migrated away
And the wicked game took their place.
I don’t love you
Because of your lyrical hair
That frames your perfect face,
Or the way you pull your shoulders back when you walk.
I love you
Because your soul can puncture mine
In a way that brings me back to life.
I don’t love you
Like one loves the wildest passions,
In the sunniest of spring-lit dawns.
Or because I can’t sleep when I think of you.
I love you
Like one loves the air we breathe
Or the hummingbird, its violet rays.
I don’t love you
For the fear of falling for you
Or the scary thought of losing myself in you
Because my heart beats at the rhythm of your words.
I love you
As the night loves its star-filled sky
Or the poor child loves her only toy.
I don’t love you
So I can hold your waist next to mine forever
And I can kiss every nook and cranny of your perfect body
While mine just shakes in disbelief.
I love you
So I can caress the back of your knees
While I stare at your fervid elbows.
I don’t love you
Because Bob, Carlos, or Pablo sing for you.
Or every Violet flower reminds me of you
Or because I cry every second I’m not with you
I love you
Because the night feels like a void when you’re not here.
And my eyes can only stare at yours.
I don’t love you
Because my senses get heightened at the mere thought of you,
Or because my heart cannot beat if it isn’t for you,
As my soul shines in anticipation of the presence of yours.
I love you
Because a snowflake blinds my wait,
And the morning dew fertilizes my thoughts of you.
I don’t love you
With the hopes of spring to bloom,
Or the meteor shower that brightens the darkest night,
During the pressing passion of a hot summer evening.
I love you
With the clarity of the distance between us
And the interlocking of our tied-up hearts.
I don’t love you
Because your breasts wake every vein in my nerves,
Or your lips make my taste buds sing,
While your perfect legs invite me to walk next to you.
I love you
Because the view of your back
Makes me cry and want to run after you.
I don’t love you
With my everyday tears
Or the strength that keeps me alive,
With the passion in the battle of my words.
I love you
With all the pain I can’t remise
As this love is real and it hurts.
Because I love you like love would love itself.
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Luis Llamas is an unpublished poet, an engineer, technologist, traveler, investment aficionado, road cyclist, amateur runner, gadget geek, and beginner photographer, in no particular order.
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