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I'll tell you of my secret confessions, Of all my lies and imperfections. I'll tell you of all the love to display, For the hungry soul has much to say.
I'll start out with a simple question To begin my tale of confessions. Have you ever felt a love that grew You know you will never love anew?
The screaming does not protest, Against a simple soft caress. A small hidden truth is this: I fell in love by a gentle kiss.
True love can never be explained; It can tell a story but never be named. My tale ends with a final confession: I love with all my heart; that's my imperfection.
does anyone know who wrote this poem? I've had it for like 3 years and I still dont know who wrote it... any takers?
"I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as certain dark things are loved, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries hidden within itself the light of those flowers, and thanks to your love, darkly in my body lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where, I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I don't know any other way of loving
but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close."
hmmm...u know as true as that poem is, I couldn't find who wrote it either, but I think whoever wrote it maybe wanted to remain unnamed as it says in the last stanza ???!!...I dunno, but whoever wrote it, big ups because thats from the heart, and you can feel it deep inside...thanks for sharing this
sorry wasn't big help
yeah, thats alright! I love the poem and just was wondering who the author was...
