{dragonflies and blackened eyes}
where the first corner of the world,
is blanketed in nightfall,
and the dragonflies float on,
your lower ribs rise only to fall in the same place.
i put up an inert resistance,
i blended myself into one color of reality and beauty,
reminiscing, our love was the poetry of love;
albeit, i retreat back into the velvet mountains...
--e.l. jayne
Poems & Prose 
Brilliant verse.
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Thank you so much!
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You are so welcome!
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Beautifully written💜
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Thank you for reading 🙂
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“reminiscing, our love was the poetry of love” I don’t think I can quite express how beautiful this phrase is. Memories of time together with loved ones shine brightness into the future. And one can never fully explain love, it must be experienced, lived in, so the love must be its own description of itself, growing and blossoming into more beautiful memories.
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“love must be its own description of itself” what a sentiment! Time and time again people try to describe love, when really, it’s indescribable. And it’s so perfect how you added it grows and blossoms upon itself to create more beautiful memories. Love grows from love. ❤
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