Romantic Poems

...since my desire
drops as many
as rain drops.
No need a paper
or crossing lines
to count it.
Embrace my heart,
and count its pulse...
I miss you that much, Princess.

That's why it
called "my heart"
Pump softly as
the wind massage the sky.
Throbbing aggressively
as a zigzag foam.
And the blood of
love is the air.
With the desire spirit
that pass across the chest.

Everyone keeps
a lump of sun in
their selves.
Some are rising and
some are going down.
My sun shining
twenty four hours.
Is there any
laundry dry yet?
Are there any trashes
you want to burn?
Come, close them into my face.