Three lines is not much room for love, which may be why it suits the subject. The form will not let a poet explain themselves. There is space to set something down and no space to defend it, so what survives tends to be the true part: a gesture, a small betrayal, one image that carries the rest.
These poems were chosen from the Three Line Poetry archive. Some are tender and some are not. Love here includes the kind that has curdled, the kind that arrives too late, and the kind that is remembered rather than held. Each poem links back to the issue it appeared in, where you can read the rest of that issue's poets.
36 poems from the archive
Young lovers kiss on a bench,
Make love on soft pillows--
They die not knowing their names.
Inexperienced in love,
she wore her heart on her sleeve.
He left a permanent mark.
Her lips were heart shaped
She was so beautiful
She sang love songs
I was certain I was in love
I was not young
Dark birds eat out my heart
the ocean loves me
but is not IN love with me
and now the sun, too.
loneliness beckons with a drawing heart
sadness fills the lonely path
happiness eludes the sacred desire
Moonlight on mountain,
blanket of snow covers slopes.
My love’s warm embrace.
Travel every day
Roam the earth in sweet romance
Surrender to love
Underwater love;
tentacles twining sweetly—
alien caress.
Her hands define a lifetime of love
caressing, creating, cajoling, claiming
the shadows of a heart’s work
Scarlet lips kiss a song
Fingers tickle ivory
Whiskey pours, lovers drown
Conversing anything to keep our late-night talks
Your voice, my love, brings beat in my heart
energizing even at midnight
Precious, dazzling love
Each time so fresh and new
Come again, and welcome.
You flow through my art-
eries, bringing in new air
circulating love.
My dead grandmother’s voice.
"A boy once kissed me."
I grew light as a ghost.
rumpled sheets
perfumed with odors of love—
visiting newlyweds
time placed between
two parked cars—
ducking in for a kiss
we aged & not like love would’ve
how invalid & wanting
how sadly perfect
raindrops--
his last kiss
goodbye.
Fragrance of lilac recalled
another place─Montparnasse—
where she fell in love that spring.
dogs teeth puncture
the skin of my breath—
nothing like love
Love, an image dark
before warm light enters room.
Exposed, yes I am.
Labyrinth of thoughts...
A heart of glass and
Crystal tears of sorrow
My books are the lovers
When the flesh is absent,
And the night is still young.
from the black heart of the forest
a kingfisher soars skyward
wings sable against the sun
Smoke pours from your heart
Your body an inferno
I am oxygen
My favorite time of
day - he arrives by school bus
to embrace his dad.
Thorns surround my agave heart;
spirit and knowledge rest within;
one hundred years to flower.
butterflies, stormy skies
schools of fish, a final kiss
inky mess- rorschach test
I ran as fast as I could,
and as hard as I could muster—
until my heart gave out.
pencil skates on sheets
wood on wood like skin on skin
a lover’s intrigue
No, Baby! Don’t
French-kiss the world
one socket at a time.
unbloody (pain left behind)
sacrifice (love snatched up
to heaven, to here)
His arms, dark wings, around me,
cheek against my sun-bleached hair
in the familiar way of lovers.
Three wishes I have:
two bodies, one heart,
and zero regrets.
he loves me
but how does a daisy know
and why must I tear it apart to get the message
More poems by theme
From the Three Line Poetry archive