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I think the mysterious pull that draws you to another person is identical to the one that moves our eyes upward to the stars.

Lang Leav

The feeling is like the ocean. Sometimes calm and still; other times, it’s a hurricane.
LANG LEAV

Calm Feeling Hurricane Ocean Time
Who you love and who loves you back determines so much in your life.
LANG LEAV

Determination Life Love Relationship Yourself
Doesn’t your soul remain the age you were when you first fell in love?
LANG LEAV

Age Fall In Love Soul Yourself
Hands are no longer hands. They are caresses. Mouths are no longer mouths. They are kisses. My name is no longer a name, it is a call. And love is no longer love – love is you.
LANG LEAV

Call Hands Kiss Love Name Relationship Yourself
Life has a way of working itself out. You’ll see.
LANG LEAV

Life Way Working Yourself
Love is a dormant volcano, lying in wait, biding its time.
LANG LEAV

Dormant Love Silence Time Volcano
Before the tears that tore us, when our history was before us.
LANG LEAV

History Ourselves Tears
Don’t let them tell you that your pain should be confined to the past, that it bears no relevance to the present.
LANG LEAV

Pain Past Present Yourself
Some Time Out The time may not be prime for us, though you are a special person. We may be just two different clocks, that do not tock, in unison.
LANG LEAV

Different Important Love Prime Time Togetherness
When you don’t have the whole attention of someone, you find yourself begging for it from everyone.
LANG LEAV

Attention Beg Finding Yourself
It should be my right to mourn someone who has yet to leave this world but no longer wants to be part of mine.
LANG LEAV

Leave Mourn Myself Right World
When words run dry, he does not try, nor do I. We are on par. He just is, I just am and we just are.
LANG LEAV

Dry Existence Himself Myself Run Word
Sometimes I am caught between poetry and prose, like two lovers I can’t decide between. Prose says to me, let’s build something long and lasting. Poetry takes me by the hand, and whispers, come with me, let’s get lost for awhile.
LANG LEAV

Hands Lost Lover Myself Poetry
To love is a dare, when hope and despair, are gates upon it hinges.
LANG LEAV

Dare Despair Hope Love
If any person claims to have loved twice in all their life – they have not loved at all.
LANG LEAV

Break Up Life Love Person
It is the mark of a great poet to write words that feel as though they have stood witness to your most intimate memory of love.
LANG LEAV

Greatness Intimate Love Memories Poet Writing Yourself

I think the mysterious pull that draws you to another person is identical to the one that moves our eyes upward to the stars.

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I think the mysterious pull that draws you to another person is identical to the one that moves our eyes upward to the stars.

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Popular Authors

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