Gwen Calvo Quotes & Sayings

He loves her for a reason and its not rational — Gwen Calvo

It is the taste of cut steps, bloody fingerprints. Of healed books, smiles on fresh tulips. Of longing and sweet fatigue. — Gwen Calvo

Descending thru your voice like a song, like a cascade of orchids in an afternoon, eternal falls to the Sun. — Gwen Calvo

Sometimes you need to. Just to love yourself. appreciate loves. And live. — Gwen Calvo

Sunflowers hellos from gate to gate. The hour at the square. Candy, art, books, look. A warmth given. Beauties with rain forest hair Walk by the clock tower. Sunlight of neon, the keys inside their eyes. No storms. Traffic sounds, salt air. Salt that moves the thirst and destroys all the fears. — Gwen Calvo

Hit me with spit on the wounds. — Gwen Calvo

Undress its cold. And with a kiss accentuate the scars. — Gwen Calvo

Being words, being lips that bleed. — Gwen Calvo

she is the sea he listens to with his hands — Gwen Calvo

She has survived but she doesnt know what. — Gwen Calvo

He lights the violin and his mouth fills with fireflies. — Gwen Calvo

She is his word his love she brings the blood back to his lips. — Gwen Calvo

Music repairs us when it breaks the silence. — Gwen Calvo

He holds her in this moment and the world disappears. — Gwen Calvo

He falls in love because he doesnt want to. — Gwen Calvo

Her echo is the only reality in his silence. — Gwen Calvo

Under the Sun of the night. The Sun in winter is addictive. And at night like it is. To be in the forest and wait for a rain of sighs. — Gwen Calvo

He turns her over and writes. — Gwen Calvo

she is the poem that lives on his pages, burning in his hands, becoming beats all over his skin. — Gwen Calvo

The Sun moves. And I am with you. — Gwen Calvo

The poetry of painted collarbones and scratched bleeding knees. — Gwen Calvo

Write, burst into a dream. — Gwen Calvo

write a poem and spit fire. — Gwen Calvo

the wildflowers said what burial. — Gwen Calvo

Dreams, the veins of the universe. — Gwen Calvo

Tongues paired in the forest. — Gwen Calvo

Everything is blood and vines. The mark of another day of revolving the body exact And the sky is ours our hope our blue our silence our throat of burning wildflowers. — Gwen Calvo

He keeps her name on his hands, her body in his throat. — Gwen Calvo

Finding yourself with your loves gives blood to existence, looking at one another seeing the universe. — Gwen Calvo

The edge of the sea masks a clock that marks the waves. — Gwen Calvo

The sand storm carries words but feelings not even a hurricane. — Gwen Calvo

he is her home, a cemetery of poems. — Gwen Calvo

I write scars and dead butterflies. — Gwen Calvo

In the distance, a Benz motor sounds. A neon light wraps itself around the driver and the winter that beats in his heart. His heart stays cold. stays melting. — Gwen Calvo

Writing is taking the demons out for a walk. — Gwen Calvo

Wait for it to rain and then go out into the street. — Gwen Calvo

Your lips, an inverse chaos of stars. — Gwen Calvo

Indigo sky, because the heart is also a sunset. — Gwen Calvo

The hands understand the language of dreams. — Gwen Calvo

The fog between the trees of ghosts who lift suns. — Gwen Calvo

My home is your blood, your tongue, your laughter, your earth and hands, always your hands. — Gwen Calvo

In the forest, I like you like that without anesthesia. — Gwen Calvo

The word is a violent pleasure. — Gwen Calvo

He breaks her waves on all his edges. — Gwen Calvo

Lips, red, ruby, like the blood, like the words. — Gwen Calvo

writing between the roots of distance, she. — Gwen Calvo

I hold you in my mouth, in the words that contain you, in the unsaid and the haunts, in all the forms your name. — Gwen Calvo

I confess to the trees, priests of dreams. — Gwen Calvo

if you want to heal a wound you have to stop touching it. — Gwen Calvo

Loving you is kissing the night, exposing the scars, words in flames, for every drop and for every life. — Gwen Calvo

Women are a poem of tousled tresses. — Gwen Calvo

Writers talk to ghosts. — Gwen Calvo

Souls bound by infinite coincidences. — Gwen Calvo

The forest opened the road, his reeds in one fist, devotion in the other, a bow on the back, words as petals, and a blood-stained smile. — Gwen Calvo

You taste of the sea, of clocks, dark nights, of everything that is soothing and prohibited. Of dawn in the eyes, falling snow and destiny. — Gwen Calvo

And our love still is, it is because it goes, like a kiss, from mouth to mouth, repeating itself in silence. — Gwen Calvo

Face in the Sun with the dark circles of beautiful nights the mouths of tigers. — Gwen Calvo