i miss himno not like how the sun misses the moon because they dontthey have never even met long enough to say thatbut i miss him more deeply than thati miss him like how i miss him
i think i am finally starting to feel shame in that night.we are not okay.and it is because of that night.maybe i am starting to realize,it really is best to put it behind us.a part of me still wants to do it again,buti am learning thatthat night was not acceptable.what was done, was done out of lust.what i longed for to be out of love,simply was not.what i thought was amazing,simply just could not be.it still leaves me wondering,did you do everything out of drunken but real love,
if i had the chance to meet you again,would i do anything differently?would i tell you how i felt back then?would i still keep it to myself?would i'd rather have you break my heart three years ago, or somewhere in between then and now?
Jolt of market-carts ;Steady drip of horses' hoofs on hard pavement ;A black sky lacquered over with blueness,And the lights of Battersea BridgePricking pale in the dawn.The beautiful hours are passingAnd still you sleep !Tired heart of my joy.Incurved upon your dreams.Will the day come before you have opened to me ?
One Life of so much Consequence!Yet I -- for it -- would pay --My Soul's entire income --In ceaseless -- salary --One Pearl -- to me -- so signal --That I would instant dive --Although -- I knew -- to take it --Would cost me -- just a life!The Sea is full -- I know it!That -- does not blur my Gem!It burns -- distinct from all the row --Intact -- in Diadem!The life is thick -- I know it!Yet -- not so dense a crowd --But Monarchs -- are perceptible --Far down the dustiest Road!
Come, my Celia, let us proveWhile we may the sports of love;Time will not be ours forever,He at length our good will sever.Spend not then his gifts in vain;Suns that set may rise again,But if once we lose this light,'Tis with us perpetual night.Why should we defer our joys?Fame and rumour are but toys.Cannot we delude the eyesOf a few poor household spies?Or his easier ears beguile,So removed by our wile?'Tis no sin love's fruits to steal;But the sweet theft to reveal,