Mimi Nguyen
dear diary: the human experience
bodies of work: part one
My Love is a Gift
From romantic to platonic
From lovers to friends
The extent to which I love is endless abundance
If I ever come off as too intense or intimate
Perhaps this space is not meant for you
"the butterflies of a blooming romance"
The Power of Punctuation
I profess my love in complex sentences
Wrapping my confessions in commas
pausing between each clause
I tend to get carried away
with the run ons
as does my heart run on
Forgetting my punctuation marks
The period could make time stop
However, I would rather not
At a loss for words
Do not speak
Hear my silence
Through my ellipsis
Though I am quiet
You and I,
Our eyes speak,
A language dear to thee
Dilate, and you will see
Can We Hold Hands?
We sit before the sunset in silence
Our legs are outstretched towards the horizon
The palm of our hands rest behind us
Our fingertips play with the cool grass
The evening draft is chilling and sends shivers
The wind cues the music, a honeyed melodic tune
Your hand begins to slowly dance towards mine
Waltzing their way to lock onto my fingertips
My fingers meet yours and intertwine
Can I have this dance?
pillow thoughts
​
on these late nights,
we share the same pillow thoughts
eyes peeled towards the ceiling
wondering, do they hear my thoughts too?
so long as we’re watching the same star
breathing at the same pace
aligning our thoughts together
sleep deprivation doesn’t seem too awful
