Euphoria: A Poetry Collection by Rosemary - HTML preview

Dear Philautia,

I know it's weird to write to a missing person.

How do I know if you are gone

or just gone away for a while,

or even existed in the first place?

I also know that I should stop calling you missing.

You don't stay long,

you might come around to visit

once in a blue moon.

You should come around more often.

I need you,

please come soon.

I don't know your address

I guess I'll leave this in my mailbox until I can

find one.

en I might just bring it to you myself.

Dear Aphrodite,

I understand why I’m here for this long.

I've made my circle of peace.

You made me out of your stains of hair

yet how could I have been so clueless?

I lived, I laughed, I built, I protected, and loved

all that loved me, all that didn't and in between.

I was the temporary guardian angel.

I entered lives when needed and was a home,

gave them the key to my soul,

loved them at their lowest,

helped build a foundation,

added layers and layers.

Painted a picture

helping them find style but

they left the key on the coffee table and didn't even

say goodbye.

But how could I be upset?

I was crafted by you.

My wood is made of tenderness and warmth.

Passion carpeted my floor.

Sympathy and friendship ran through my wiring.

You made me to love and I successfully loved all

but one.

e owner of the home.

I can't wait for her to come to me,

I need to make my move and I need to do it fast.

Philautia.

Your Perfume

Your perfume was an unforgettable smell.

A smell I wish I could never forget.

e smell of pink,

of glitters and rainbows,

the smell of you.

I woke up one morning thinking,

“How, how can I make you love me

as much as I love you?”

Can you smell my love?

Can you smell all the time I put into you;

I put into us.

So I rise out of bed

with a vast lightbulb above my head.

I know how!

I know how to get your love.

I know how I can make you love me

as much as you love her,

him, them.

I’ll go buy it!