Poetry of a Conlanger

Friday, April 20, 2007


I am speechless
At you and your mad, hopeless love for me.

Every word you say is thrilling,
each kiss only makes me fall harder.

I marvel
at your enigmatic perfection--
to tender, so strong;
so shy, so confident;
so sweet, so hard.

And you are perfect--
I will never get enough of you.
Do I say these words lightly?
I think not.

It is you I love, dearest,
It is you I crown king-thief
of my heart.



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