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I happen to chance upon you
behind closed doors
momentary smiles
and mocked glances
of the afterglow.
Red Thread of Fate - According to this myth, the gods tie an invisible red cord around the Finger of those that are destined to meet one another in a certain situation as they are "their true love".
Lilian Vector Dec 2019
I met you on the field of yellow daffodils
While blue skies reflect under the shade of your eyes
My hand kept trembling,
Awry of razor sharp blades of freshly watered grasses
of both yellow and green
Yet my body was on thin air
floating among dead grasses, swimming along the shore of gold, brown autumn
And yet I was drawn
To simply you,
A man wearing a striped black-red shirt
belt and pants endowed with matter and mass
arrogant yet kind eyes gleaming like that of a dead fish
A buzzing smile of a bumblebee
Taking in the aroma of the morning breeze
And my flowing silky black mane.
Yet we are leagues apart
And the sensitivity of your sensual touch
cold to my warm skin.
Had the pair of innocent black orbs knew any reason
She stared into the silence that you conjured.
Our feet met the soft, wet and muddled ground of perplexity.
As I embraced illusions from an empty stool at 9 o'clock
Wait for me after the rain.
I've tread lightly on these strange waters with you.
Happy Anniversary!
Lilian Vector Sep 2019
Oh, to be so bold
So young,
With your red,
Hair down
Flowing
Shining
Casted by sunlight,
I wish
I could be you
Oh to be young,
And In love
With life
To you.
Lady Bird Soundtrack for inspiration and the afternoon air.
On the spot writing.
Lilian Vector Sep 2019
I had quite forgot
How to dance
Is it to retrace
Back the steps,
The sway of my own hands
Outstretch my boney fingertips
Extend the movement of my tiny feet
Towards the rhythm
Of this empty glass room
4 versions of me
Staring from within.

Yet, as I open my clammy lips,
An echo
Would fill
Yet pass me
I would be singing then,
Not of familiar words
But a stranger's
I cannot retrace
Any old version of me
In the past

Tightly blinded
Folded
A sudden outcast
From the present [me]
Yet, where am I?

I'd like to adore
The 4 me's
Inside this existent
Box.
Trying to write a decent poem after a 3 year hiatus.
Lilian Vector Aug 2019
A kitten’s paw clings to more than skin
And shivers and snuggles in deep
The poet pays in beats of the heart
To see in her eyes himself asleep.
First date.
Lilian Vector Aug 2019
Ye all rose-colored and plum lipped beauties, (a)
Your skins, pale like snow, soft and roughened worn, (b)
In contrast betwixt the ancient deities, (a)
Thy eyes a golden daffodil on the morn. (b)
Yet ye beauties, thus hiding in facades, (c)
Thy hearts brimming with artless emotions, (d)
Hands pulling out hair on sensitive heads, (c)
As tears filled your eyes with somber notions. (d)
You are all full of fiery passion: yet (e)
What sacrifices must be taken still? (f)
To what length do this foreboding skies meet? (e)
Fair youth, you see, life offers us a thrill. (f)
Youth is when dreams breathe life’s hue golden (g)
Wasted, won and lost, again and again. (g)
“All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts.”
- William Shakespeare -
Lilian Vector Aug 2019
"Goodbye my love, we'll meet again under the cherry blossom tree."

"The wind rustles and whispers to me, the songs of the fated."

"If only the mountain Gods were ever generous, our feet would gladly lead us the same path."

"The red sea would surely separate, wave by wave."

"Again my love, the rain may falter, my tears come in streams of a waterfall."
Japanese poems are songs of nature.
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