She was in love
With old books.
She was in love with
The way they smelled
As she flipped the pages
And felt the air hit her face.
She was in love with
The rough texture
Of the paper worn over time.
She was in love with
The yellowed tint of the pages
And the crumple of water spots.
She was in love with
The broken and tattered
Binding that crinkled
When you touched it.
But most of all,
She was in love with
The stories that not only
The words written in them held
But the stories behind each
Coffee stain and torn corner.
The idea that this book
Had connected with
So many other people
Enchanted her,
And she wondered if
Maybe she wasn't as
Strange and odd
As people told her.
And she thought that just
Maybe she wasn't as
Alone as she felt.

I've been gone for so long
I can't remember who I was
before I turned to this

One day I will buy chocolate milk,
One day I will fly first class,
One day my shirts will be silk,
One day I’ll have a backstage pass.

I am accustomed to saying No
To things that would make me smile,
It’s not that I’m short on dough
But splurging just isn’t my style.

The waiter asks if I’d like a sundae,
Oh my, I couldn’t do that,
Perhaps I’ll have it one day
Because I don’t want to get fat.

This attitude long ago was learned
And strangely it has survived,
Trust me I’m deeply concerned
Why I am so often deprived.

I know I deserve the best,
And shouldn’t make life tougher,
I feel that I’m overly stressed,
And I don’t deserve to suffer.

Starting today I shall vow
To indulge my deepest desires,
To spoil myself I’ll learn how
Before my dull life expires.

There she is
reflected in this tiny droplet,
I see her laughter her pain
Her struggles and joy
Crisp and flawless like her love.

I am in there as well
The dreams dashed
The dreams unfulfilled
The future waiting to unfurl.
A teardrop is a marvelous thing
Like a bird’s eye
The future and the past
In clear view
Nothing obscured
Nothing hidden to protect the innocent
Or the sensitive
Or those trying to forget.

Sharply I see her good
Embracing her imperfections.
What is the formula one employs
To solve the mystery of love?
My rational mind is left wanting
Wavering and vacillating between
Apples and oranges
But in this teardrop
All is made clear
The fog and fissures
Are wiped clean and caulked,
Respectively.
The world I need and the world
My heart desires
Reflects with blinding light
With precise clarity.
From this crystal half dome
My blurred doubts are brought
Into focus
My entire world resides there
In that one tear of joy.

~~
Those might have been told in any other way
but you could not understand
No, No this is not a spring song
Not even a fairytale

An exclusive secret,
a pain which originates within a love,
reverberates with the rebel song,
within your known sky, wind

Naturally has seen in dreams
Rarely meets with the real
Crops of thousand wishes,
As the Vinci's Mona Lisa

Truly forms in nature
which has a vitreous luster
As the Crystal of Sapphire blue
where the beauty beyond

Of the words mystery unveiled,
yet the fascination of the Poe's uncovered poetry,
As the fathomless depth of Mid Atlantic ridge,
which goes a long way

Tastes like the first kisses of love
which is full of longing
where whole life is covered with dissatisfaction,  
within the prospect of ever known

Like an old wine
where levels of alcohol is too high
After spreeing over the night,
Still hanging in,
Even after taking the morning black coffee
~~
@ Musfiq us shaleheen

Billows of blue sheets
Scarlet ribbons in the sky
Violet petals
Gold strewn across the heavens
Dazzle me. Then the sun sets.