I want to tell you,
what the ocean knows.
Love is endless;
a hard untied knot.
Silent tapestries
depict the history of our love.
The finite:
the pocket of your vest,
the rose,
your mouth
hardens
as the edges of your eyebrows lift.
-I did not make you feel that way.
Oh, but you did. you were the catalyst
The yellow rose:
a contradiction
carefully understood
though further perceived
becomes ambiguously forward,
vibrating,
forming wakes which dance along the shore line.
Why must love
take on such ridiculous tones?
Smyon-Pa 