The Gifts I Bring

I accept your gifts
let myself drown
when people are in love
they often say
they simply fell
tripped over their own two feet
face forward
and into the arms of their beloved

i did more than simply fall
onto the ground of your love

you, for me
were an ocean
and i dived
headfirst
roughly
harshly
almost painfully
into the waters of “you”

i knew i could not swim
but i did so anyway
i was drowning
entangled in you
surrounded by this being of “you”
engulfed in this feeling of “you”

and i did not know what came over me
but i let myself drown
i did not try to swim back up
because if i went back to land,
releasing myself from your grasp
that would mean losing the feeling of “you”

and after
submerging into the depth
the love
the passion
of “you”

how could i ever leave?

This is beautiful. Thank you for sharing.

It is an honor for me because you read my poem
And my happiness when reading your poems is that I enjoy your verses

Favourite lines:

These are not
trophies of conquest

I am tempted to follow the example of Moroccan Poet, with this shorter rhyme, reflecting on both the poem and your footnote:

'The Gifts I Bring'
were just a fling,
these could not last,
now these are past.

The story about the picture's effect on your lover's marriage echoes that described in your mother's poem I Blush, when your father replies to a call by sending a nude picture of the coworker he was then carrying on with.

The gift of your love is very hot indeed.  Keep on writing.

Your energy is a gift!  We all have the past imperfect, but not all of us grow.  

This is the kind of poem I'm tempted to comment on but will pass.  That's a beautiful picture, both breasts and body contour ...

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You say those days are in your past. If only you could know what tomorrow would bring. It's ironic really.