The pictures on watercolors
seems happy
My mom's scarves don't dance
with me...

تصویر آبرنگ ها شاد است
...روسری های مادرم با من نمی رقصند

She lost her heart inside his soul..in the words his mind composed...inside the myriad memories of this emerald eyes...that shone with a light she had never know...a longing she thought was hers alone...

She loved him more than life itself..
But feared that even the shadow of her
scared, wounded heart would cast
an evil that could not be dispelled.

The proof of her love was in her eyes..she loved him each moment...knowing well that even the sight of him killed her a thousand times over...
She wanted the best for him...even if it meant being without her.

His future, his dreams meant more to her than that ache deep down to see him behold her with a longing she saw in his eyes alone....none ever looked at her like that...ever
Lust was all she got....disgust if at all.

He made her feel beautiful, feel complete..seem ageless...almost magically as if his love alone could transform her demons into ashes....
He was all she ever wanted..hoped for..he was the answer to her aching heart!

She loved him like she would die every day just to be held in his transcendental embrace...

But then she ran away...frightened at the plethora of emotions that coursed through her hopeless body..afraid of her own shadow...afraid of what it meant...a reality she couldn't dream of..cudnt imagine..
worlds colliding.. hopes shattering...
she dare not love again...she dare not love again..she promised herself.."Not this time...not again"

So i said to myself
"Yeah, lets pretend like we don't know eachother,
It's probably for the best anyway
Because when you talk to me
And grab at my shoulders the way
You use to, it all comes flooding back to me
Everything i pushed to the back of my mind
Hits me again like a tsunami
So i'll just turn my head
And walk away
Even though i can feel your eyes
On me.
Watching me.
Like you always used to."

Both light and shadow
are the dance of Love.

Love has no cause;
it is the astrolabe of God’s secrets.

Lover and Loving are inseparable
and timeless.



Although I may try to describe Love
when I experience it I am speechless.

Although I may try to write about Love
I am rendered helpless;
my pen breaks and the paper slips away
at the ineffable place
where Lover, Loving and Loved are one.



Every moment is made glorious
by the light of Love.