I'm a student.
I hate writing about myself.
Creative writing minor
Some sweet nothings for your pleasure:
Amongst river mist and silt, bathes my beauty
She lingers there, in a pool of stars.
Skin... deep ...dark
slick with a glisten
Stress wrings her back
If I could intervene
With a tranquil gesture
a pink blossom.
Yet, ones wants are moot
behind steel confines
Only eyes may touch what must be rose petal
Faint delicate veins arush with fuchsia nectar.
To have you is to keep you,
secret and concubine
Unearthing shrubs to steady.
Head deep submerged in dusky blesseth water
When you rise, I may behold you.
keeps me here,
crouching, grasping at soaking roots.
Could I love your sweet neck
and lay you under dripping leaves?
I long long long to weep into your shadowy hair.
If we were a sterling and a dove no one would even care.