Whose words these are I surely know.

His poem is on the website, though;

He may not see me reading here

To feel his verbalight aglow.

My fingers, locking, pull me near

To stop and think as words appear 

Between the loading page's wake.

No gentle write as uploads clear.

My fingers, scrolling, raise the stake 

And I just simply cannot break.

The wand of pen, a zen filled sprite

Of verbalight for poesy's sake.

This site, this Prose, engulfs my sight,

But I have deadlines I must fight,

And words to go, so I must write,

And words to go, so I must write.

Daybreak, and your voice is a lingering breath

your presence is an imprint warming

my now orphaned breasts

the lightning still flickers and taps

maddening code from brain to heart

Daybreak, and shadows are chased

to their beckoning corner

your stormy eyes are studies in fever-pitch

your irresistible, irrepressible mouth

a smeared fire-engine stain

do we accuse my own love-swollen lips?

Daybreak, and the silence is infinite

you pretend at nonchalance

but your beautiful hands tell another story

you are near enough to touch

and all the more distant

Daybreak, and we are already spent

ruptured to opposite ends of the room

backs bidding one another farewell

the door is now salvation, resolute

leaving me was always a hollow threat

you will make good on old promises.

Daybreak, and I capitulate

among the splinters of our heartbreak

you have departed without remorse

my will crushed in your dilapidated suitcase

as you feign the lightness in your step

In response to @Firdaus poem "Midnight". Link to original post:

https://theprose.com/post/116832/midnight

They say you can become anything you wish to be.

I know you do not like what you have become.

You find the tiniest things to hate about yourself and close your heart when someone wants to come in

Your mind is a house, you serve tea to your thoughts,

you decide which ones get to partake and which ones must go.

You view yourself through a Fun House mirror.

And decide to never listen.

You like my poetry so hopefully you'll look at this one. 

L, pay attention. 

You are the sunlight that comes in through your bedroom window. 

The dust particles that dance beautifully in the air.

A shooting star, your skin is star dust darling. 

You are infinite, unable to be contained. 

for you are made of thousands of colors. 

Sometimes I swear you're made of christmas lights.

Laughs like tiny bells and smiles orange slices.

You never notice how DEEP joy and love is stuffed into your skin

Sometimes you forget it's there.

Like a shirt in the back of the closet you thought you gave away.

I know you are more loved than you think.

You choose who you are.

And you might not like what that is right now, 

But one day, you will look back at yourself,

smile fondly at the memory and feel nothing but love.

I am a virgo, so I imagine my life in the future more often than I should.

But when I do,

you are in it, and you are alive.

https://theprose.com/post/114376