For what is love. Is it a need. A need to be near. A need to admire or be admired. The frolic of her hair spun like rays of Saturn. Is it the smile that lights the dark and lightens my heavy heart? Perhaps, it's her words etched in my mind, a soliloquy of song on repeat all time. Perhaps it's the chase, the sadness on my face to see you both near and far. Perhaps it's that your presence stays present, no matter where you are.

The Rain of the King by mykolozano, literature

Untitled by mykolozano, literature

Her Remnants by mykolozano, literature

Literature

Her Remnants

Here. Right here, Is where she left. The stain of memory on the asphalt ground, cornering the brick wall. Where do your remnants exist? Only in the mind, my dear. They told me that nature will conquer the concrete, an overgrown Amazon within the city, as if nature can ever “overgrow” itself. But in this alley are no roses, my favorite of your favorite gifts once adored. Man laid the concrete too thick and that is why men don’t know their feelings. Because a city is merely a reflection of its priorities- the building with the most power is always the most tall. Here, there are no room for flowers, not for you. None at

Untitled by mykolozano, literature

Walk by mykolozano, literature

Literature

Walk

an angels feather left behind in the palm of an infants hand Many times a whispers eyes transcend the luminescence poetrys concrete walls to plexiglass’ sand the clouds weather through outside the spread to make a pure syphon of air the breeze made just for your radius hovering over, knight you with pure thoughts, the night's elegance The aroma of muscular compassion a more real sense of touch The knowledge of knowing For the sake of the love of loving The smoothed coat Of a puppy in spring Droplets of rain slipping off leaves onto your thirdeye surprisingly, as you walk for the sake of walking this beautifully empty street

Your Ocean Weave by mykolozano, literature

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