Splits of your covert dimples

The light finds its way to me,

be it through the wounds,

be it through the cuts,

be it through the needles.


And you know what,

love is beautiful

and as Rumi said –

lovers don’t finally meet somewhere

they’re together all along.


And you know what,

love is strange –

it’s like talking to someone

and feeling happy

no matter how pointless

the conversation is.


And you know what,

love is magic –

it’s having that hug

where you can physically

feel the sense of sadness

leaving your body.


And you know what,

these still moments

remind me of still tomorrows

closing in with lead search.


And you know what,

I just fall for

the way you subtly distance yourself

from me.


And you know what,

the strength and vitality

of my bones and veins

are up for these

encouraging defensive modes

that I have to bear

in different forms in my life.


In this length, perhaps,

not everyone can

progress the courage

and the heart

that is demanded

to say it on the face.


And I know I have

only been writing

to remind the silence

that I’m still here,

that I’m still breathing

even when I’m bleeding,

but the ache sustains

and prevails monochrome

sentences – carving them into your

heart! ♥


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