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What if your eyes came back to me
A thousand years from now
When both our bodies have turned to dust
Countless times.
What if I caught you
In the face of a stranger
A perfect stranger.
What if I knew those eyes
What if my own welled with tears of forgotten grief
How can this be?
As I recalled fluttering skirts
Wild laughter
Dark curling hair
A ski ***** nose
and a love too powerful for one being to contain.
What if I capture your eyes
infinities from now
and still know them.
What will they say?
How will they prove souls exist
and that ours found the other in the face of a perfect stranger.
How will they prove that love
exists beyond the boundries of mans wonderments
that is is beyond full understanding
and follows souls between bodies.
Why waste our time trying to disprove and play down such a mysterious thing as love
When we are here to bask in it
To learn from it
To grow from it
And create a love that exists beyond the cage of human flesh
That expands into the very atoms we are made of
and travels through the soft willfull passing of time
What if I told you I loved you enough
To travel beyond the stars
Beyond the dust we are made of
What if I told you my soul loves yours
Infinitly.
I know thousands of years from now
When both our bodies have turned to dust
Countless times
We will find eachother in the face of perfect strangers
And recognize the eyes in which the soul lives
That knows no bounds
Feeling overwhelmed with emotion. Watch i orgins if you want to be mind blown.
(c) 2016. Jess Treijs. All Rights Reserved.
Enslave me for I wish not be free
Do what you wish and ravage me

Relinquish my freedom my only treasure
I'll trade it all to drown in this pleasure

I succumb to all of your fantasies
Create art from lust with our anatomies
 Jan 2016 Sam Y Starlight
Purab
lost
 Jan 2016 Sam Y Starlight
Purab
Walking in the shadows
Of my blackened mind
Lost inside this shallow
Vanity of time
 Jan 2016 Sam Y Starlight
Purab
Held captive,
by a silhouette.
A dim light,
Tracing her curves.
Raindrops dripping,
From her lips.
A wet sweetness,
I want to taste.
Inspired from a scenerio.
A poem was always supposed to heal, or to help; at least in a way or another.
But this time is different, not even Rumi can do the work.
My mind is in a blank state-it has shut down.
With a trembling body and shaking wrists
Stealing glances and guilty kisses
Amongst each panic attack I drive through
I sense your sighs and get charged
Then see your phone screen and drop down
My nerves are threads ablaze
She has bigger eyes, her body is steady and so are her wrists
But she does not admire that surgical scar of yours
I seek refuge in it and that's the problem, I guess
She claims ownership, it is her right after all
She is priority
You write her name on every bill board
And I hold the ladder for you
You are writing my death note, you know
But these matters are small
For your phone screen will still glow
With messages that will make you grin
She demands ownership, it is her right after all
As I fight Gods to get those grains of sand you once stepped on
But she is priority, she is royalty.
This is not a poem, it is a tribute
To the time when I breathed you in and you breathed me out
We could have breathed forever
But my cells are attacking one another
And my mind is in a blank state
I have already mentioned that
But you see, I can not hold that ladder anymore
And I am in no state at all
Not one of priority - obviously.
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