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Tell me, my moondark one, how come that
our journey remained untraveled;
from mirror to mirror into eternity
our passages were left uncrossed?
For the mirage of shedding a light,
we rather chose to immerse into the outer world
than become one with each other's.
Since when were we this hollow
turning into shallow ones,
who are unfaithful to their dreams?
Tell me, that how come
that the snake is already bitting his own tail
for the circle is full now,
and I still wish to tell our never-ending story?
Aug 9 · 518
Diána Bósa Aug 9
I wanted to be your part
so desperately
that I almost lost
my wholeness.
Aug 2 · 397
Diána Bósa Aug 2
I am looking for a blueprint for love
the one I've once felt about you.
The perfect blue paper
that helps me figure things out
that tells secrets about a lover's skin and sighs
- the ones I knew as yours.
Now I wish to redraw, then admire its design:
relearn, then follow its patterns
down to my very heart.
I want to rebuild its structure,
recreate the way that is no more,
to have the perfect edition of it;
a guide to my true self,
the one who once knew what it felt like
to be in love with someone like you.
Jul 26 · 252
Diána Bósa Jul 26
Naked, true.
We are reborn
By disrobing the disguise.
Jul 14 · 110
Unrun the siege
Diána Bósa Jul 14
Though the air tastes like the chance of defying,
we are about to unrun the siege against the coming havoc tonight
for we already embrace its touch and learned to accept the inevitable.
The light is still scratching at the windows begging us to let it in
at last,
but my soul was bonded: engraved into your shadow,
dreaming about the firmament of stars; an era of freedom
- long before we became the prisoners of our own sun.
Jul 5 · 151
Diána Bósa Jul 5
Here in
Mother of pearls.
Iridescent; being pregnant with light,
A world rebuilding - waiting to hold you.
Sea the sun,
Jun 22 · 202
Diána Bósa Jun 22
What is like being with you
when you are not around anymore?
- you may never ask.
And I might leave this unanswered, too.
You are still outshining me, you know,
so I have to go dark,
before becoming completely transparent;
coming clean, before all get unclean.
For starting the fire and finish it,
are two different kinds of things.
Jun 14 · 321
Diána Bósa Jun 14
From the sea of smoking souls
I am parted to emerge,
imbuing by aether silk;
the space of your sound.
Jun 8 · 207
Diána Bósa Jun 8
Familiar strange.
Our music sheet.
Full of suicide notes.
Jun 6 · 206
Diána Bósa Jun 6
Staring into the abyss
knowing our sunken paradise lies there
like a black hole of the universe;
a void beneath the eternity.

Between sky and city
it's just me - alone,
caught by the memory lane,
for still hiding an angel inside,
the lost shadow of you
May 31 · 130
Diána Bósa May 31
A handful of years ago,
from the Light, appeared the Dark.
And then, a flashback meant no fallback;
for the reality of yours became
more desirable than my fantasy.
I was wasted but not spoiled, though,
I have already made my peace
with the void of you,
for all I need now
is not your parts
but my own wholeness:
a structure in the flesh.
May 27 · 127
Diána Bósa May 27
Once in a blue moon.
being blue in the blue hour, and then:
'**** it to blue blazes!' - out of the blue,
one may be just out of the blues.

For the true blue feeling gone,
walking away into the wide blue yonder.
leaving nothing but the blue devils themselves
who just keep on talking a blue streak
till one gets into a blue funk.

Like blue blazes, black-and-blue again
one gets stuck in one's own blue chamber
between the devil and the deep blue sea,
being blue around the gills,
keep on listening to the blue note
over and over again.
May 24 · 306
Diána Bósa May 24
Lips sealed.
Necking stirringly - hush.
Shadow of a doubt.
May 23 · 115
In The Butterfly Room
Diána Bósa May 23
One, from time to time,
may feel that love is just like
the butterfly room;

one may like the way
enter into its softness
first, for the tiny,

unfurling wings' touch
fondles tenderly, gently.
But there comes a time,

when one may find that
these wings are made of razors;
circling, whirling one

all over engraved
by both the sin of the flesh
and the crime of heart,

writing into one's
helpless skin, that cannot be
shed ever again.

With engraved letters,
scribing meticulously,
and bathes every page

in the ink of love,
giving birth to the story
of pain, the story of us.
May 21 · 271
Diána Bósa May 21
This game was on
right before we met.
This game was on
right before we were even born.

No one has ever said that
playing by the devil's bible is easy
and, to tell the truth,
I have never fancied gambling.

But this time I was called to act
by the summoning, and though
the price was never so high
like this before
I take the offer on losing everything
I have ever had.

Because sitting at this table
right here in front of you,
streamed by Acorns, Bells, and Leaves,
threatened Over-n-Under by the Knave,
I must defeat you by my own Heart
before the King itself slaughters me
by the hand of the Deuce.
May 20 · 117
Diána Bósa May 20
born in sound, voice by
the call - the world begins with
the echo of you
May 10 · 179
Diána Bósa May 10
At night-times like this
I use to put my finger on
the artery of silence
and listen to the cracks
between words and the unspoken,
for the blood drops are its pauses
speaking in the tongue
of slumbering stones,
keep on chanting
a song with a beck:
"live on love, live on love."
May 4 · 131
Diána Bósa May 4
Did you know that this house
breathes in the man-made lights,
so our walls can exhale colors?
Tonight, this town is going to burn in neon blaze again,
for the sake of light-pollution, love.
Yet this time, 'light' means our corrupted souls.
You know, some may say that
there's no place for the true firmament of stars now,
not even time for twin-flames, like us.
Yet still, we are capable of coming to blow with this mirage,
battling against this army of bogus lustrum.
For we are about to lose our sham voice
so, at last, we can echo light.
Apr 21 · 364
Diána Bósa Apr 21
whispering city
blaring-chattering fountains
weeping train-tunnels
in prayer, I am taking
the one - thy name: my silence
Apr 6 · 115
Diána Bósa Apr 6
As the lights of the day bled into each other
a silence, like a shady veil, fell between us.
It was more like a worn-out pilgrim:
he came home to stay:
placing his muddy shoes on the doorway
for knowing no wayfarer ones remained.

Without a shadow of a doubt, I used to angelize you.
And you needed no enlightening for your still
kept sharpening your shiny blades.
Now I am at aphelion;
further from the breathing blaze than ever
yet still I am capable of coming clean:

to realize that your shadow only paled me.
Dec 2018 · 221
Diána Bósa Dec 2018
Trapped in your mirrorverse
I put my faith in thy hands:
Guide me or lose me
It is all up to you.
Within these walls of your eternal reflections
It doesn't matter
Whether you’ll be my thread of Ariadne,
Leading me out of this cold labyrinth
Or my nemesis of the mighty Minotaur,
Breaking then devouring my fragile bones.
For in this winter-crystal wonderland of yours
I choose to stay and face my fate
I choose to remain for
My destiny is bonded to you.
Nov 2018 · 131
Only Then Will I Know
Diána Bósa Nov 2018
When the noise makes sense
and the malediction feels like a blessing;
the hunger turns into a fullness
as the defloration becomes efflorescence.

Only then will I know...

That relinquishment is just another offering,
that falling is just going upward;
the opposite is the way ahead to the straightforward.

Only then will I know,
by the true learning of loving you,
who I am.
Sep 2018 · 580
Diána Bósa Sep 2018
Did you know that the night hides itself into your
hair? See, that's why it is so dark.
       Your shimmer, love, swallowed me
and I am melting on your tongue of time.
You are likewise the womb and the tomb of mine;
what else the difference but a letter.
Pour your sun inside me and let me rest in your blaze.
Place your moon upon my very heart and see how
I become one with your nightshade.
      My fate is a delicate line
                in the corner of the eyes of yours.
You water and make it bloom with the tears of joy,
drawing the constellation of stars on your very face.
       You are all fair, my love; there is no spot in you.
Jun 2018 · 308
Comforting The Ghost
Diána Bósa Jun 2018
I am still sleeping with your spectral body
sharing my bed with your incorporeal consciousness.
Even now can recall the taste of your dreams
for enfolding myself with your astral vestige.

I am like air yet earthbound because of you
in my turning, I no longer can return to the highest deep.

Your rising was my fall
for my end became your beginning.
Crying these tears of mirror shards
the next page in the book of reflections was turned.

And nothing left behind
but comforting the ghost.
Jun 2018 · 332
Diána Bósa Jun 2018
I am like those SETI-scientists,
clinging on radiowaves;
noise-melodies from outer space,
questing after truth with huge telescopes
and scanning the visible light with satellites,
seeking desperately the limits of worlds apart,
searching for signs of intelligent life
in the desired-to-know universe.
Just to communicate with the extra-terrestrial;
to achieve certainty: there is someone out there,
someone, who is different, yet alike,
who is able to speak my thoughts
without knowing my language,
who still can easily translate my feelings
into the secret programcode of the universe.
An astral-traveler,
who can tame the waves of gravity,
someone, who is faster than the speed of light
and could eat the distance between us.
To be my interstellar compass;
my one and true guidance,
to help me explore this unfathomed life.
Someone, as David Bowie sang at once,
who is able to believe the strangest things,
who is able to love the alien.
Jun 2018 · 238
Diána Bósa Jun 2018

Don't mind the fall of ascending
for its gravity does the work for you.

A passageway to this wind tunnel is open now,
yet the recoil is still undone.

Leave the rest to the high-rise end,
and embrace your bound to the above.
Jun 2018 · 316
Diána Bósa Jun 2018
Once I was a preserver
a wayfarer
a maker
but later
you turned me into a useless stargazer
by losing the will of being your tracer
I ceded my kismet on becoming an engraver

I grew to be nothing but a moveless eraser
May 2018 · 243
Diána Bósa May 2018
Once more
Came to see the light of the night
then just to
melt in the shadow of the dayshine.
The summer moves on
and so do you
leaving behind nothing
but the event horizon.
No light can escape from here
remaining captured,
like a caged skylark,
being lingering frozen
like the vacuity of space;

incarcerated by the radiation of dying stars
out of the lightning source of my true glare.
May 2018 · 381
Diána Bósa May 2018
Traveling by the
speed of light just to bend time
and space I came to

cross over unknown
galaxies for reaching your fond
hex-black singularity.
May 2018 · 300
Take A Train
Diána Bósa May 2018
take a train
seek a station
sense the location
nevermind the destination

thus the landscape is just a mindscape;
a vastness of space, a great unknown
we built for each other,
a wall of falling - a distance of stasis.
Apr 2018 · 452
Diána Bósa Apr 2018
Rumor has it one takes pictures of stuff
that one is afraid of losing.

The girl who captures moments with her camera
seeking the company of entangled dwellings
beneath the womb of nightfall
for the city is silent
in this witching hour of her heart;
her misbegotten heart which,
with - step by step - every beating
also grabs, in her own way, fragments of reality.

So, she wanders through the whisper-lighted streets
by taking pictures and immortalizing shapes,
searching for a dead-end for finding a living door,
a door, which she may be able to preserve,
to his sorrow-sealed soul.
Apr 2018 · 223
Diána Bósa Apr 2018
I am in love with your reflection,
the one you refuse to see,
I am yearning to hear your song,
the one your voice deny singing.
My well-known stranger,
my learned unbeknown;
dying to accept - living in denial.
A dream
which is fated to remain
a fantasy.
Apr 2018 · 290
Diána Bósa Apr 2018
loss of appetite
this wine in my mouth tastes salty
a grape of your tears
Mar 2018 · 381
Diána Bósa Mar 2018
i am no music
but noise for these ears of yours
may have some quiet
Feb 2018 · 317
Valentine On Sartre
Diána Bósa Feb 2018
Kissing your cheek
time after time
then at once, you asked:
"What are you doing?"
"Counting my blessings," I said
"I was never good with numbers, though,
so I start it all over and over again
and imagine Sisyphus happy."
Jan 2018 · 852
Diána Bósa Jan 2018
As I walked this earth to find you
I also found myself.
On my way to you, I understood that
this path is so long, though,
it could never unflame my heart
for my steps, toward you,
were never bootless;
beneath the act of loving you
I also learned to love myself.
Beyond the search of you, yet I never sought,
I also learned the now of my present
for in you, I am bondless
yet boundless at the time.
Jan 2018 · 504
Midnight Sun
Diána Bósa Jan 2018
I am waiting for you to show up
like the azure ribbons of northern lights
in the end of the velveteen-blue horizon.
I can almost hear your steps
if I hold back my breath
and silence my heart.
Your steps having a caressing sound
of touching the dusty ground.
Your body is the living night -
upon your shoulders, you hold slumbering stars
for the moon is your radiating heart.
I am waiting for you to show up,
I am waiting for the rising
of my midnight sun.
Dec 2017 · 413
Diána Bósa Dec 2017
In this my time of need,
I dream about
those Harmattan-breezed stories
you left unsaid on my skin,
for you were so dreaded by the thought
that your light may come alive from its slumber,
that I may reflect and echo you.

And I am whispering now,
repeating the song of your beating heart,
before you could also withdraw your touch,
and say: rather stay blind than to face with these all.

I unbound my hair...
Dec 2017 · 309
Diána Bósa Dec 2017
Already accepted that he is the one of his kind;
he is never going to happen again, though,
he has shed and shared too much blood
for keeping himself alive -
always on the still
I am the cosmonaut of his existence;
the explorer of his oneness
for he is the macrocosm of my blooming.
Dec 2017 · 297
Diána Bósa Dec 2017
I've seen the stones;
the sphinx's heart,
the tears of the sand,
the touch of the wind,
the taste of the silence,
the plenty of the vastness
- all, though, existed
without rhyme or reason
for as the shimmering firmament itself,
you towered over me.
Nov 2017 · 308
Diána Bósa Nov 2017
Only imagined the moving,
dreamed the breathing
for I was walled up alive
beneath the body of life,
its womb was my tomb,
its stasis was my shroud,
yet, my immurement
is come to an end now, though,
for I can witness the rising
of the dark harvest moons
under your eyes.
Nov 2017 · 270
Diána Bósa Nov 2017
In this midheaven of demigods.
beneath this semidetached shelter
of semi-manufactured souls.
apart from the half-hearted's dimidiate
the bright-half departs
for dovetailing all of our halves.
Nov 2017 · 261
Diána Bósa Nov 2017
I wandered from mirror after mirror
finding no home in any of them,
for my reflection can only have a being
in these eyes of yours.
Nov 2017 · 251
Diána Bósa Nov 2017
My wings became the shadow of the past,
yet still echoing their flight
for you are the space
that holds together their mass
and breathes matter again into them.
Nov 2017 · 367
Diána Bósa Nov 2017
Entombing the scream
into my body to hide
the banshee
for the sake of guarding
this terra incognita;
the peacetime of ours.
Oct 2017 · 591
Diána Bósa Oct 2017
I was blinded by the sky today
it stared at me,
without a blink,
so I did the same,
just to avoid missing
the very moment,
when it would speak about you.
But it fooled me:
it took away my sight
ousted the breath of my soul
far, far away
and uncoupled me
from the hope of the living.
But I still remained,
stayed to listen to the wind,
asked the sun to swallow me
and prayed for you
to recognize me this way.
Oct 2017 · 337
One Step Forward
Diána Bósa Oct 2017
We are heading toward the unknown morning,
ready to face with the heavy light of the world
only this livid silence embraces us now,
yet still, I do not fear to take one step forward
for I know there's no future forsaken
for I know I am going to happen by you.
Oct 2017 · 297
What We Need
Diána Bósa Oct 2017
How many times should I need to lose you,
before I learn the rules of your equipoise -  I wonder.
And how many times should you need to cast me out,
before you learn to bear my unmasked sight - You may not know.
I have already figured out this discoloration,
and, darling - it is going to **** us soon.
What we need now is to have those blades of ours again,
what we need now is to be delivered by our own Caesarean -
from this womb of pretense-fate
and see the light of our true day.
Sep 2017 · 406
Raining Flowers
Diána Bósa Sep 2017
Someone broke the sun today;
it is raining flowers all over,
creating a liquid silence
by giving life to our constellation
of their falling petals.
Sep 2017 · 246
Diána Bósa Sep 2017
it took away
my sight for life
it rooted into
the eyeholes of mine
till it reached my core of life;
the heart
I already gifted to you.
You see,
I placed it upon
your very hands,
and, for now on, it is ready
to break out into blossom.
It waits for you to deflower it.
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