A paradox called Love

It seems pre-destined That my canoe should never make it across Your river of love Getting always sucked in At the vortex in its middle Only to resurrect itself As a triumphant memory Or as a likable defeat Left floating all over you As clouds bearing the rains That sustain your flow That should pour…

Delusional Mind

Bitter and sweet Bliss and misery Are, all the things that you, Inspire in me. Your name gives my heart, just A hot chill. Until my fastened lips are able to, Open and say “I love you”. But alas my mind becomes delusional, Unable to approach the being that is you.