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On today, Monday, Febuary 14th, 2022, I give this love to you. For all the smiles and happy memories and love and laughter, I offer an account of my love. Even when
Imagine being picked Like petals from a flower Someone holding you, wanting you, wishing for you Only to be pricked by the thorn And watch the blood fall Mercilessly
this valentine's don't bring me a rose the smell will only tickle my nose instead bring me a kiss with that you can't miss I'll love you from your head to your toes
The shelves are lined with pink and red Two colors that I wasn’t really fond of, At least not when I was young The heart-filled patterns and lovey dovey messages
Slow dancing to Sam Cooke under the mountaintop stars, Cooking creamy chicken parmesan alfredo Saturday night While hearing the pot singing and sizzling. Laughing until our insides crumble in pain,
Eros, son of Ares and Aphrodite With shattered bow, and broken hearts in tow Weeping, among the silence, Of once beating hearts, No longer enchanted by love’s arrows. War plagued that day,
A day of unselfish acts, according to Legend Be courageous and still love in turmoil Accept the magnetic pull of purpose We being the elements for rich soil The foundation we carry, is enticing
Dear whomever, “Dear” can’t encompass you. My greatest, most foolish love Dear isn’t nearly enough Not for you God help me
Guilty! Guilty! Guilty! But what am I guilty of? Surely it couldn’t be spreading religion,
The night I sat alone in that room, I read aloud what that text showed, I heard that sweet, gentle, voice on the phone. A voice whispering welcome home. I anxiously waited for that call the next day,
Dove dark chocolate, One of the purest enjoyments in life Foil bends and crinkles as I relish the moment in which I open the clearanced Valentine Which was somehow abandoned
I stroll through a grove of ancient oaks, Hovering down a path immersed in shade. A clearing now, the blinding p e r f o r a t i o n s of light strike.
To the boy who is a poet (1000 miles away) To the boy who is a poet: To the boy who is a poet,
Roses are redViolets are blueI want to burn your flowersI want to bury youForget the words of lovestop floating in the airStrip down nakedLay down and stay thereI’ll cry you a river lover
The yellow and orange candies have always been my favorite, the only ones I've ever liked, actually. So when I was sharing the sweet candies with my love, I gave him the yellow and orange ones, naturally.
Dear Future Valentine,
To her, I was a vessel For a flow of complaints, An ongoing soap opera of familiarity. To me, she was a gaudy gem, Ersatz sapphire, an imitative spark In the dilettante’s eye.
With a heart so fragile and delicate
A Valentine's verse For me and for you, Together we're grown As one but not two A wee, wee short time Together we've been, Our hopes so high Expectations so thin
Hold me close, keep me safe. Tell me you love me and that will never change. Dry my eyes whenever i cry and tell me everything will be alright.