I am you today

 

 

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In the melancholic time,
when the dark howl craws
In the harrowing soils mask,
where the river flow is backwards
I bask in the sunshine,
towards the bridge of memories.
my skin knits
I am sun-kissed today,
like a morsel of apple-pie
sulking on my white bare skin
I am a memory today.
where the sweet honey clings my tongue
pouring my holiness into your laps
I am a pattern to be formed, embellished
I am aliferous today, this moment.

©My Valiant Soul


 

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You are beautiful

 

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Tear off the mask, your face is glorious”— Rumi

Unscathed beams of sunshine ripple along your pious cheeks,
There lie a canopy of precious words,
decorating your soul with white beauty,
where rivers of unruffled jasmine travel.
The scent is you, like a home of lavender candles
burning your mind, your beautiful mind.
Fabrication of art and beauty lies in your smile
Titanic view of sunrays, a holy reflection of poetry.
Seduction of smells entices your body like an opening of a lotus.
You evolve like the skin of the moon.
So, I become your hidden reflection.

©My Valiant Soul


 

You are the Art

 

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During the nights of summer, I found a bowl of romance, lust in your sinking eyes. So much I read from it. I collected all my wisdom to read your bizarre words. I disclosed a few readings, read your dying cold murmurings like the lost dandelions in a silent winter night. You are a gargantuan lyric of unsaid phrase. So much to draw from you, so much to read from you. You are the Art of survival.

 

In the occurrence of solitude, first, this sunshine broke, telling your unfathomable lost emotions. I heard you still survived with a potion and lotion of memories. The concoction of sweet lips and the nectar is always as chilling as the moist air.

We regenerate from each another, sucking sagacious chants, drawing a pool of concave oblivion laughter. Oh, the touches of laughter you had with the dawn and rains in your lap. I knew you were healing steadily, like the owl lost in its precarious world.

You are as liquid as wax, undefined and countless ways of colours you produce each day. Beatific laurels of splashes of lanterns reside in your auburn smiles. I know, you are a masterpiece.

©My valiant Soul


 

Sacred Earth

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 Like a distinctive shine, my heart palpitates for your convex smile,
the dewy lips romancing with a shooting star,
the prodigious forest inside my body receives a gust of fragrance,
your beatific touch that glitters my waistline, oh, my man!
Between lips and parched lips, resides a mystical cacophony
yarning a crown of butterflies to decorate my atlas of body
to receive the markings that spread through my milky breast
where the darkness vanishes in the monotony of time,
I smell my bed sheet, the spots you rocked me,
clinging on the jasmine night,
that gave an ephemeral shake, a tremor to our naked souls.
A thunder I produced, inside my poppy finger-nails
where I captured your aroma,
as a pearl of delight: my necklace
I want your immortal touch inside the folds of my skin,
sucking my tongue
residing in the interiors of my temple shaped body,
I have known moist cities and pale humans
putting a slumber to my desire,
And snickering to my crooked jawline
where the goddess even hides in cold evenings.
I have seen sanity, insanity.
I have been tattooed with thorns of roses
wrapped around my neck, suffocating, killing, devastating.
And here I survive in your crisp prism blurry image
turning around the previous thorns as a cultivated seed.



 

A Parasite.

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In the alcoholic eyes of mine,

I choked on your divine name

knitting dreams of your dreary arms

I kissed my own grave.

Sordid, papable walks confine me now

Cold hemisphere, stifle my pharynx.

What more I desire from the bleeding roses of lost hope?

I am back in my own dirt now.

Clustered and a parasite of cries.

©My Valiant Soul


 

Transparent Memory

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In the vermilion threads of sunset rays,

 aberrant fireflies sparkled the molecules of tiniest grass,

the loops of a feather, imbrication of skin and lip

Aromas meeting raindrops,

the scent coinciding, intruding into the chaos of your numb eye

where the mind shackles see Apricity,

Eyes know the true palpitations,

Obscure stream of water

my lips that hold the shred of you

dilutes into molecules of your transparent memory,

for you are my abstruse, a diamond spark lost imagery.



 

All I crave

 

Au coin de feu, Detail. by Auguste Toulmouche (1878)
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It’s like crawling slowly and steadily on my skin, my cold skill refuses that baked slice

of lemon to provide composure, oh, the moon, show me your silver beam in this sunny gold pyramid.

It’s something like a blatant truth now suffocating my inside organs.

Clenching my unsaid words, devouring my amorphous fidelity

And, all my fingers crave is to play the music of your heart.

                                                                   ©My Valiant Soul


 

Dark howl

I am no summer breeze. Neither I am a warm blanket to provide that yearning, surreal warmth.
My own soul is shivering, heart sees cracks here and there, Irrevocable my tears are on this pillow.
Fierce, ghost-like shadows perching on my knee joints,
It hurts. It hurts my paradise dreams.
And you say I am ignorant about the moon and its dark howl.

Promises

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I remember that warm greet you gave me

in the cold chilly winters,

that hug you gave defined your inexplicable puerile love,

You promised to be the summer flower in my numb chilled thought,

You intrigued the new definition of allegiance

promised to be a gazing blur on the window of my heart

Entranced by your words of humility, I stepped onto the bridge of fidelity

a bridge of flowers leading to a bubbling valentine house,

promises is what I have in the hollow of my palm

I choose to hold it ,embrace it

whirl and churn your breaths into my pale blood

So that you may know one day, what all I craved for.