#love poetry

you reach for me

and i breathe

into you.

you’ll never catch me

saying “no.” envelope me

in your arms, lips to neck

and i’m yours. i find that

we’re at our best when we’re

under covers figuring things out

and i could try to romanticize us

but it would never fucking compare.

ReBecca DeFazio

More Than A Flower

We never cliff dived;

never found ourselves lost.

We had a plan; a plan to be anything

except our parents. A plan to be

okay; thriving. In love. Happy.

And we’ve come so far but

I’m tired of safety; maybe this

feeling is coming from my

self destructive heart.

We both know that sometimes it

tends to boil over but maybe it’s just

that I feel safe anywhere you are.

So let’s jump. Let’s move to France

and learn a new language. Let’s

raise the children with love

and freedom and cultures that

aren’t our own. Let them bear

witness to our love story.

Let them tell their friends and

spouses stories of us laughing

hysterically while dancing in the

kitchen at midnight in a new

country, our kitchen is feeling a little

small lately and I would love

to spend a night lost in Paris with you.

Lost. Blissfully lost.

ReBecca DeFazio

More Than A Flower

Sometimes when you’re lying next to me, fingers tangled in my hair while your hand rests on my cheek… When you’re fast asleep… My heart physically aches; like love has filled me up so much that I can hardly contain it and if I don’t cry, I’ll explode. My throat feels like a volcano ready to erupt; my breathing short. I never ever would have guessed that this is what love felt like. - ReBecca DeFazio (More Than A Flower)

Puis il y avait de la chaleur,

un bassin de beauté trouve en vous;

dans votre toucher, votre sourire.

Votre amour m’a apporté la magie

à ma vie, même quand je pensais

que j’étais perdu dans les falaises;

perdu aux fins.

Then there was warmth,

a pool of beauty found within you;

within your touch, your smile.

Your loving me brought magic

to my life even when I thought

I was lost to the cliffs;

lost to the endings.

ReBecca DeFazio

More Than a Flower

A series of polaroids of you and I.

1. The sky is dull; not a true blue like I usually like but I smile up at you anyways.

2. The air smells like ice and hot cocoa; you drink and then press your lips against my neck and it sends a tingle down my spine and into my toes which I can barely feel because I always refuse to wear boots in the snow.

3. Once I’ve stepped in too many puddles, you tell me “alright, jump up.” carrying me home on your back; I whisper in your ear and you grin beautifully.

4. We are sitting on the couch under the covers watching Inception for the millionth time.Your arm around my neck, our fingers interlaced, our faces pressed against each other’s; we breathe in the warmth from one another’s lips.

5. I’m standing in the kitchen, coffee in hand, crinkled nose, wearing your hoodie that is 3 sizes too big. My hair is messy but I am happier than usual; it radiates off of my freckled skin.

6. You are fast asleep covered in my favorite ice blue blanket from Kohl’s; my head lies on your chest. Twinkle lights shine down on us, barely lighting the room. My fingers are curled up in your chest hair while I sing “My Everything” by Ariana Grande quietly until I fall asleep too.

ReBecca DeFazio

More Than a Flower

‘is love winged bliss, or steady ground?—

maybe not;

but, I know, it is not so

an unstable path as this.’

'falling,’ - Megan’s Poetry #1274

‘I am proud to have practiced loving;

I am proud to know you to your bones—

I am proud to know which tendons to pull

and which to leave alone.’

'to be known,’ - Megan’s Poetry #1273

Vocal Point

Body talk

I listen raptly, rapacious for

Every shift, every rustle

Blood rushing to

All the peak places

The sighs, the moans

Deciphering meanings

Translating tongues

Slipping and sliding

Teach me the intricacies of

Your language; make me fluent

Whispering softly at first

Then volume rising

With intensity of feeling

Heed the hedonistic glee

Following each other’s lead

We will both get there

Gasping for air then preparing

To again hit those high notes

In harmony 

Interlinked

Traversing my walls

Taking tender steps yet

Sure-footed steady as you go

Putting me perfectly at ease

Laid-back onlooking between relaxed blinks

Of crinkled eyes, thinking with a satisfied

Sigh that this feels oh so right

As stoniness buckles under

The gentle sway of thoughtful touch

Bringing joyfully energizing

Vim and vigor to my days

Turning up the heat at night

Until we burst into flames

Fireworks colorfully lighting up the sky

Fourth of July has nothing

On our pyrotechnics display

Then we fumble drowsily sweet

Into dreamy gratified sleep

Reaching out for each other

Circuit complete

the curse of my death is that

i am with you

through your madness,

stranded and unable

to save you.

— and they say it is mercy

i think about you when the sun dips low to kiss the earth

and the night engulfs the empty sky in an embrace

because i know that in silence,

that is when you are alive.

— death, please come for me too

i think,

they will perish,

and yet my lips are silent—

they are sealed even when i am screaming

within my head;

i think,

they are unloved by the gods,

and pretend that i do not know—

i turn away from the noise within the wind

because they are just children;

i think,

he will lose his love,

but i do not know who i mean.

— secrets in pelion

i found love in you;

i found myself in war.

i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry—

what is my legacy without you?

frantic denials

we are children running on the shore,

sand creeping in the spaces of our toes

as we stomp hard enough to leave a mark

because this is all i know the world will remember me for.

we are children running on the shore,

feet never truly touching the sea

because something lives underneath the waves

and you always try to protect me from her.

we are children running on the shore,

hands clasped tightly with each other’s

as we cherish the times we have left to spend;

marking the days we did not know were counted.

and then i was a ghost stuck on the trojan shore,

desperate, and yet unknowing how, to come back to you.

— pyrrhus, why?

goddess,

how do you want me to love?

you think so lowly of this boy

who has scraped his wobbly knees

to chase this omnipotent being

that you call your son;

worships brimming from my throat

and spilling from my wounded lips

because he is a god amongst mortals.

you think so lowly of this boy

who does not want your son to perish

even if he is forgotten through time,

because what good is his epic

when he is dust?

you think so lowly of this boy

who loves achilles

for what he is not allowed to be—

a boy.

so tell me goddess,

how do you want me to love?

how do you want us to love?

— prayers thrown at the sea

often times i found myself asking

how will i ever live without you?

what would become of me when you’re gone?

it’s terrible how fates can be

for now i know the answers.

when she came back into your life,

i know that i already lost the other half of my soul.

she was seared to your ribs

and tattooed across your heart;

she existed within the cracks of our relationship

and flourished under the raised voices.

i cannot even find it in myself to hate her;

to despise her for her return and

for the way she easily took you from me

because love,

my love,

she and i both exist to love you.

and it hurts, terribly so, that you have chosen her

over me

over us and the memories

and the life we have shared—

of the moments when you saw me at my worst

and brought me to my best,

of the times when your words were biting

and i reeled you back in—

but maybe this is how it ends.

this is how it ends.

— waltz

mother,

am i selfish for being afraid

and angry

at the prospect of him loving another

once i am gone?

she said,

he will rather slice his own neck

than love someone not you.

i preen at her reply.

— am i like peleus?