that's the way love comes

@verrlorenpoet ☆ poetry reblogs

[luminote]

Did I say too much? Did I speak too loud?

[jaywritesandwrites]

[yakultstan]

[havingapoemwithyou]

Middle age by Jason Shinder

[havingapoemwithyou]

A Drink of Water by Jeffrey Harrison

[jaywritesandwrites]

[purplemonkeysexgod69]

[salemwitchtrials-deactivated202]

[ID: an excerpt from ‘Poem for a Birthday: Who,’ a poem by Sylvia Plath 

“Eaten or rotten. I am all mouth.”]

[soulreserve]

fossilised

june opens its mouth into a circle, and wet moon dreams pour, bury, syllable-long love.

fish, cre- -scen- t, bone, shell— this soft, organic memory of you.

this grief-sediment that ages, compresses, into fossil

over time

becomes poems on picture-stone.

© SoulReserve 2026

[dendrochronologies]

i love my darkness and my greed / for light. i often regret / not having had a calm and loving childhood. / though in that life i might not have needed the moon / the way i do now.

field goal, moonlight, men walking to work, by jim moore. yale review/grieftolight

[tearinmyside]

day 16...

as a child, i swallowed cities whole (after danielle tremblay)

kept them as keepsakes inside the caverns of my chest. lockets without pictures, the wafting scents of bakeries and used bookstores. cities captured behind my eyes, wide footbridges and vast views. push pins spread across a map pinned to a yellow wall— to be welcomed into a kinder universe that fit like a worn and pilled sweater, fear and closed doors banished— to want and want and want and watch an infinite world from the seat of reticence, a flatworm under the towering, unreachable boulders. to reinvent under an orange sky.

-kab

[stolenhead]

bedbound at the regularly scheduled interval. my blood a hornet swarm. my heart, a sparrow, starving. shimmering mirage my spine hardly touches the mattress. how hard it is to be still, to feel this body aging, this siphoning of stolen hours. you dream with open eyes, a warden rapt by the evidentiary splatter of my sanguine notions. unclean. here i am when your sleep covets the fever of my starsick body how needful, your unconsciousness. not my doe-eyed dark shot through with waltzing geometry. dogs howling in my good ear. my name over and over. over and over, i'm falling through the ceiling, conspiring with an attic full of ghosts.

[literaryvein]

L. V., exhumed writings

[feral-ballad]

Sandra Cisneros, from Loose Woman: Poems; "I Am on My Way to Oklahoma to Bury the Man I Nearly Left My Husband For"

[flowerytale]

Sharon Olds, from "Little Things"; Strike Sparks: Selected Poems, 1980-2002

[flowerytale]

Mahmoud Darwish, from “Mural”, Unfortunately, It Was Paradise: Selected Poems (tr. by Munir Akash & ‎Carolyn Forché)

[weltenwellen]

Jenny Zhang, from "my sweet angel on earth thank you for this life"