She knew love was just a safe place
To fall apart
To trust the hands
That bend you
And see pretty even without the sun's shine
Love was holding you in the dark
And being afraid of happiness
Lest it be taken away for being too much
Love was the realisation of having so much skin
After it became coordinates of every part you touched
Love is the story of how she pleaded with a map
As she measured oceans with the length of her fingers
And moved entire forests that came between you

let me listen to you
your hidden landscapes
your lives lost
in velvety oblivion

listen to the streams of blood
throbbing at your wrist
in the tender flesh inside your elbow

listen to the vulnerable intensity
in the soft vale at your collarbone

the silence on your lips
the whirls below

listen
listen through you
to these things that one cannot speak

**Ioana Ieronim

From my perch,spanning the vast,
fathomless sky at night,
where 100 billion galaxies
vie with one another, for foothold,
shoals of fish on the swim
in diverse forms of being
( or nothingness of various kind)
in cycles  of birth from dust,
growth, death in dark holes and rebirth.

I now see only  a lone star above,
cowering at a far corner, in silence
anxiety ridden  as she's alone
in this celestial grand opera house.

Wonder, where had gone all,
the spectacular display of star power,
profligacy of fish of  ocean above
proudly displaying just yesterday.

Lessons, on equanimity perhaps,
nature teaches,writing on the night sky.

A part of you goes away ,
Everyday,
To never come back again.
And what is left in you,
Are the scars of yesterday.
The promises, the kisses,
The love you once felt,
The nights, the stars,
The life you once wanted,
The touches, the smells,
The laughs, the tears,
It all goes away,
Everyday.
And what is left in you,
Are the scars of yesterday.