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I haven't touched the buttons of my mom's dress...

...من تا به حال به دکمه های لباس مادرم دست نزدم
You know how I know
This was meant to be
Your heart and my heart
Both have the same beat
Perfect in their timing
Using love to sync
Your heart and my heart
Both to the same beat
Why sleep
        when the words
             are running through
       the maze of my mind
gushing up through
my pores
     in liquid divine
Why sleep
      if my fingers could
           be interlocked with yours
wrists pinned
    our legs a-tangle
          souls wrapped
             around each other
                    like the crush of
                    viscous silk
my breath
          entering you
                  with the purity
           of the most nourishing,
                            ink-stained milk
How on earth to sleep
when this wild restlessness
electrifies my bones
makes me roam into
     the caverns of deep
            as the rushed heat
          disintegrates my clothes
             my inner loneliness
holds me in the night
spoons me for comfort
cups my ******* hard from behind
grips my throat
and squeezes me
with its presence
crushes my heart
with its emptiness,
                   its ghostly weight
tries to steal my breath
attempts to control
my fate

And I do not let it
No way
           hell no
I will fight this
to the end
I will keep myself alive
and my soul will wander
through the night air
my womb
will search
for her home
as the blood spills
from the tip of my pen
and my heart beats
in lit
darkness,    
      alone
I need to fill up my eyes with your smile
I need to take this cold skin I am wearing and turn it
into something you would wanna touch one day.

I'm holding to your memory
Like an old lady holding to a bag where she keeps the scraps
of a lonesome life—
A photograph, a book and some keys not opening any door.
Not anymore.

I remember the talks we used to have late at night
When you were asking me
Who or what I am
And I've never been able to give you an answear you'd like.
Never found it.

And now you don't ask me anymore
And it's late for anything I say
and the spring is showing her beauty in the air
while I am sitting here with my heart sinking in solitude.
And the wind is blowing, is bringing sadness in these  eyes of mine
while the blossoms are flying up to the sky.

And for the first time in my life I have an answer:

I am the girl with blossoms in her hair
and winter in the eyes

who loves you.
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