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we are all digging graves
under some distant hazy
sunset,
somewhere,
anywhere.

the sun never really truly sets.

so what is left to
interject with when
anyone says something
about suffering
having no
end?
I'm making a choice: you.

when i say i love you,
it's a promise that my heart is yours
in as many or as few pieces as you need.

when i say i love you,
i mean that words don't capture
the nuance of feeling peace in your smile,
charmed by your eyes, and lusting to contain
your entire wonder in a hug.

when i say i love you,
i want the answer to be, "no ****,"
because i want the world to recognize
your value.

when i say i love you,
i want you and mean it.

i love you.
Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf,
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day
Nothing gold can stay.
There
is a tremendous amounts of
BLISS

in this very moment

And....
it is available to all living beings

who surpass
the illusion of
"yesterdays" & "tomorrows"
 Jul 2014 Sameen Shakya
-
?
 Jul 2014 Sameen Shakya
-
?
Why do we keep breaking
those who are already
broken?
My dad dug his foot into my back like a shovel breaking soil.
If I do enough push ups, can I put a smile on your face.
If I move the earth for you, will meteors stop me.

I carried sparklers in my hands while cannon-kisses erupted in the sky,
and my cousin swore that I'd hurt myself.
But I explained to him that history repeats itself,
and that my hurt is unavoidable.

Like the hug of a grieving grandmother,
and the staring off into space,
as her tears stain my white oxford lie.
There's no way to get out of this place.
Finding new ways to live in death.

I don't want to be cool. I don't want to be cool.

And her fingers left a ******* on my back.
And my mouth melted onto hers.
I love her until my eyes **** in sleep.
And it's deep. And it's deep.

The swirl of the ceiling sank down
like a child being drowned by his mother.
And I missed my brother, and I missed it all.

I don't want to be cool. I don't want to be cool.
No, not anymore.
Only until this cigarette is ended,
A little moment at the end of all,
While on the floor the quiet ashes fall,
And in the firelight to a lance extended,
Bizarrely with the jazzing music blended,
The broken shadow dances on the wall,
I will permit my memory to recall
The vision of you, by all my dreams attended.
And then adieu,—farewell!—the dream is done.
Yours is a face of which I can forget
The color and the features, every one,
The words not ever, and the smiles not yet;
But in your day this moment is the sun
Upon a hill, after the sun has set.
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