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 5d Kalliope
Zywa
I think more
with feelings
than with thoughts of you

Your silent closeness
without contact
my desire

to be with you unfolds
in my soul and floats
around me with happiness

I want to experience everything
with you, but swimming with dolphins
and the Northern Lights in the south

are not as special to me
as sleeping together, eating, watching
and expressing what is touching us
Collection "It takes a lot of tries to make a début"
i think we got it wrong
when we think of strong

for its not a mind
that thinks of me and mine

or controlled
by need or greed

its one thats gone inside
and dissolved all internal needs
and turns towards the world
with hearts and hands of kind
too much honey
don't feel right

these scars
are warm

and they're shapin
the night

breathe deep
shake n fight
my thoughts are not the
manifestation of a
universe amen
i move to the centre of that joy
and i am overcome by wholeness
like the full moon
illumined in my heart cave

may i be returned to that joy
today and every day
may i carry in my eyes
a glimpse of that fullness

i am a child of the
    great moving force
i get back up right away
and continue to play

tonight i sow the seed
and tomorrow there shall be rain
  all comes together
            all over again
A fleeting moment,
When time reflects on clear surfaces,
I witness the prism of colors dance across your eyes,
And I wonder if you’d allow me to chase the end of the rainbow,
To find that golden hour crash upon you,
Shine so brightly, my angelic lover,
Come back to bed—
So we can indulge in our sinful desires once more.
Love can be supernatural
33
Look at you now.
You are a big man.

Throw your sorrows—
watch them drown in Mumbai’s rains.

You are enough for me.
I need you to know.

Yes, it will be a small house,
but it will be ours.

Choose me.
For once in your life,
realize the depth of my commitment—
it’s as deep as the ocean we sat by.

I don’t want you to close your eyes.
There is a lot to see:
the clouds,
the sun,
the moon,
and the stars that hold my every thought.

It’s clear now.
I did my best,
wrote a letter,
and watched it burn.

You are thirty-three now.
You’ve got this.
On golden shores I dream of building,
a home where sunlight softly spills,
where lavender skies kiss turquoise waters,
and whispers dance on windowsills.

In southern France, where oceans breathe,
my house will rise from sand and sea,
yet its heart won’t beat in timber beams,
but in quiet peace, inside of me.

This home, no fortress carved from stone,
but woven from serenity’s thread
no voices raised, no stormy echoes,
only harmony gently spread.

For I've known walls that trapped my shadows,
corridors haunted by younger pains;
rooms where childhood's wounded whispers
painted darkness in cold refrains.

My lowest self still walks those hallways,
a ghost imprisoned in yesterday’s gloom.
But now I dream of doors wide open,
air scented softly by jasmine bloom.

In rooms adorned by tranquil silence,
curtains stirred by a tender breeze,
every space is filled with kindness,
each breath a note of calm release.

I’ll stand, in highest being,
bathed in sunrise, pure and clear
my spirit dancing, unafraid,
safe and whole, untouched by fear.

For homes aren't merely walls and rafters,
nor roofs to shelter from the rain;
they are sanctuaries we carry inward,
hearts where peace can bloom again.

So by the sea, I'll lay foundations,
a sanctuary true and free,
where my highest self awakens,
finding home at last in me.
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