“I set sail eagerly and hungrily on the sea of love, to which there is no end in sight – only bright beginnings.”

If there’s still hope for the hopeless, there must be hope for us.

I imagine myself cold as ice falling into your open arms. Everyone says it’s beautiful where I am but I’d rather be where you are.

I write poetry in my sleep because you only visit me in my dreams.

Play me a symphony of love with your tongue. It doesn’t have to be romantic.

I watch in silence as day turns to dusk as our love turns to dust.

Desperate for answers, I go searching in the stars. I ask them: on a scale of one to catastrophe, how beautiful would they say we are?

I used every color on my palette to bring you back to life. Now you paint the most beautiful rainbows in someone else’s skies.

Your lips land on mine like a delicate prayer but I can still taste my mistakes years later.

I am still learning to love all the parts of me you kept hidden.

Static heart. Work of heart. Purify me with a dirty tongue.

Understand my soul – it’s the only love language I care for you to know.

You are a waterfall of a woman. It’s no wonder why you’re always ready to spill.

He looks at me as if I’m the flame and he’s the sea; he’d turn his tide for a chance to burn with me.

Rain over me. I’ll still set like the sun for you.

I dream about the lover I wish I had, and all the ways I could be touched by him.

We commit vanishing acts when things get too close. We flirt like lovers and love like ghosts.

No matter how old or sick or out of shape, you can still stretch and have a new beginning with yoga.

Discovery is new beginning. It is the origin of new rules that supplement, or even supplant, the old.

There is a New America every morning when we wake up.

New beginnings and new shoots Spring again from hidden roots Pull or stab or cut or burn, Love must ever yet return.