Something Poem

Something Something Something my heart.
Something Something that's true.
Something Something Something from the start
Something Something I love you.

Autumn, Come Quick

Autumn, come quick,
burn into my soul these
last impressions of you.

Every vowel of hope, pinned
upon consonants of intention,
I suffer the misgivings
of this memory lapse.

Bella, In Repose

Still held: memories
Of conversations near-lost,
bitter/sweet remnants.

Etherea

A Nightmare rises;
fearing our love was nothing
but some quaint daydream.