Poems from BiaMor
Must I apologize for being too passionate?
Must I beg for pardon for loving too much too quickly?
Must I truly shade my face away
For...
Her eyes had a wild look about them
And her mouth and lips were effervescent
And the planets seemed to favor the orbit they found within...
I surely follow you
At night,
Only to pleasure on
Uncertainty after
Daybreak.
May we be hypnotized
By a draw of air
And cease to
Exist.
You were written in
Countless languages at once;
You have no possible
Translations.