black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

Words hold little scope, for a love that stretches far beyond the limitations of language.

M.K. Standby

Leaves dance on twisted arms, swaying on the breeze as though choreographed by unseen hands. Even the faithless could find themselves converts, by the smell of dampened earth and its blossoming rose.
M.K. STANDBY

Blossom Dance Earth Faith Hands Leave Rose Twist
Spirits dance on a velvet night, the sky it’s deepest black. In restless sleep and twisted dreams, they find themselves alive.
M.K. STANDBY

Alive Black Dance Dreams Night Spirit
And when I imagine my home – above all else, I’ll always think of you.
M.K. STANDBY

Home Imagination Thinking Yourself
My thoughts feel like plagiarism – a feeling already felt, the words already written.
M.K. STANDBY

Myself Plagiarism Thinking Writing
A dishonor greater than any affair, is that of a friend who never was.
M.K. STANDBY

Affair Friendship Greatness
Words hold little scope, for a love that stretches far beyond the limitations of language.
M.K. STANDBY

Beyond Hold Language Limitation Scope
We didn’t know it was simpler, did we? Those days of sunburnt youth and carefree adventure. Knowing that indestructible optimism would waver with experience – would I have gripped it a little tighter? Held on a little longer?
M.K. STANDBY

Adventure Experience Hold Known Simplicity
In the pale light of a setting sun – I’ll hold your hand and promise to love you more, on the days that you forget to love yourself.
M.K. STANDBY

Forget Love Hands Hold Promise Sun Yourself
It started the way it always does. A broken heart, and a blank page.
M.K. STANDBY

Heart Broken Page Start
Don’t give your heart to a poet – we see stories in a sentence and haunt you with our ink.
M.K. STANDBY

Haunt Heart Ink Ourselves Poet Story
So long as we share a sky, in this life and any after – I’ll find my way back to you.
M.K. STANDBY

Finding Share Sky Way Yourself
Born in one country and raised in another – seperated by ocean, but tied in blood.
M.K. STANDBY

Blood Country Immigrant Ocean
Your kisses fell on me like sand through an hourglass – a thousand tiny moments, for an eternity of stillness.
M.K. STANDBY

Fall Heart Kiss Moment
In the end it’s all the same – the hearty fire or the damp earth. I pray I’m not alone.
M.K. STANDBY

Alone Earth Myself Prayer
Your arms around me – and for the first time in years, I feel like I am home.
M.K. STANDBY

Home Intimacy Love Myself Relationship Yourself
Peace found me in a wordless embrace – in the rising of autumn sun, and the sound of turning pages.
M.K. STANDBY

Embrace Finding Page Peace Sound
I read that good things take time – but one look at him, and I knew I could never love someone more.
M.K. STANDBY

Goodness Love Myself Read Time
A full glass for an empty heart – the temporary bandage for a fatal would.
M.K. STANDBY

Bandage Fatal Heart Temporary
My throat burns with the words left unspoken, air hangs still and silence hides the words you long to hear – stay.
M.K. STANDBY

Burn Hesitate Silence Stay Talk Throat
Painting over cracks as you watch the ceiling fall – not everything can be healed with love.
M.K. STANDBY

Ceiling Healing Love Painting
The smell of oak reminds me of summers spent sleeping under canvas, crackling fires and roasted coffee, the soft sound of guitar and voices in unison.
M.K. STANDBY

Fire Guitar Reminder Softness Sound Summer Unison Voice
I feel like I’m on fire, fighting for a moment on respite – I’m not placing bets.
M.K. STANDBY

Feeling Fire Moments Place
Maybe this time I choose ignorance, because giving began to feel like losing – repairing a house from rubble, and making sandcastles with the ash.
M.K. STANDBY

Beginning Choice Home Ignorance Time
And in the end when the money is gone – will you still stay it was worth it.
M.K. STANDBY

End Money Willing Worth
The knot in a grain of wood, a frost covering sodden grass. Mornings warmed by the rising sun and brewing coffee – the vision of the poet.
M.K. STANDBY

Forest Perspective Poet Rising Vision
Her body may lay on your sheets, but my name sits softly on your lips.
M.K. STANDBY

Body Lips Name Softness
Hollow intent and echoes affection, a call with no response. Who could trust a dormant heart – where apathy is shaped like love?
M.K. STANDBY

Affection Echo Heart Hollow Love Shape Trust

Words hold little scope, for a love that stretches far beyond the limitations of language.

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Words hold little scope, for a love that stretches far beyond the limitations of language.

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