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Alin May 2015
Lost in the dreamiest corridors
of presumptions of love
We play hide and seek somewhere
Hung as a  coordinateless  terrace
All made of glass
We perpetually follow a fading echo
resonating our halved hearts

The horror movie made of our minds
A game of endless seeking made of defined time
A jarring laughter of fleeing lines
Sweeping long hair before or after an
edged out fold of an elbow
In prison we are

Caught in  an incessant illusion of expectation of body mind
we seek a time shell
to become the bath of you’s holy breath
and always to a you we cling on as a superfluous desire
misting the enlightened transparency
reflecting the hues of time blurred gleam
An ever escaping dream I am in and
I am hurt until we shall forget to be the very
not resisting move of a prayer
and so  we shall convert  to a thoughtless residue of our own light  
and so we shall pass bodiless through to the lover or I

— The End —