Concrete Poetry - Knitting Saved My Life


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Sense

I’ve already forgotten the feel of you; The beat of your heart beneath my cheek,  The vibration of your throat when you start to speak. What was it you smelled like when you were here? Tobacco, crisp leaves and bergamot… How is it possible I’ve already forgot? The taste of you has slipped my mind; Your lips so sweet with minty breath, Your showered skin always fresh. The sounds of you are long gone now; Your voice a steady baritone, The echoes of your pleasured moan. The sight of you is something else; Captured in photos and insta posts These are the relics I cherish the most.   By: T.J. Ruberto 2021
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Hush

Listen to the hush behind the NOISE within your head. The peace. Tranquility . Stop wishing you were dead.  The voices that are calling, SHOUTING OUT! your name, Serve only to fill the VOID and play a ruthless G A M E . You are worth MORE . Deserve MORE Than that voice will Let you see. Just look at all you've accomplished and ALL  that you could be. Listen to that SILENCE when the beast inside is DEAD. The hush is a place to build upon PEACE AND LOVE  instead.  By: T.J. Ruberto (c) 2017
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Morning Love

I want you to make love to me  In the quiet hours of the morning  When the sun shines through the slats And the birds chirp on the windowsill  We can pull the sheets over top of our heads  Make the world disappear for a while  I want to feel your fingers on my skin  Running through my messy hair  Rolling me over again and again Pressing up against one another  Basking in the glorious morning rays  I want to make love to you in the morning By: T.J. Ruberto 2021
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