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Kassan Jahmal Jul 2022
Heavy day shifts,
and comes the lonely night shifts.
Breathe the pheromones, the body tones,
ashes in a cloud—before we experience yesterday's rain.
Purest skins, and innocent eyes of the dirtiest brains,
thinking I'll do in myself, soon after doing you in.
Love has you sore in the chest; swept you swiftly with the
bruises on your knees.

Love is the air,
in the atmosphere of what we breathe daily.
Carelessly blowing in the wind; pieces stuck in your hair.
Like written messages on the wall, surrounding the
room's resting memories in crayon. You could count them all.
In deep chasms of emotions—I'm not only falling in love,
but also floating in the air. Love is the air.

It grips me by a click,
pointing at the sounds of my mouth without words.
Without too many girls, to express how I feel.
Or the dues to pay for new love experiences of someone
who could fit the bill.

She's in the air, along with the Heavens,
the birds and the bees. The mountain views, and the
closet reach I have to my dreams. Love is in the air,
but I wonder how far I'll have to jump to reach her,
(kiss her) My love remains stuck in the air.

On a Cloudnine
night, dark skyline
blackish star-less-night.
Scary atmosphere
terrifying, ugly and
lazy. Nothang  
interesting about
night but dream.
However Dreamers
sleep not but live
their DREAM. Man
dies for fortune
searching in vain.
Wishing a kinda
Cloudnine night !

Big up stay
on top !
The sky is
always high,
there's no higher mountain ⛰
as  heaven.
And the
Holy sacred
Book 📙 of the Christian's
declared  seven
Everyone wishes
to stay alive and nevertheless
wants to
make heaven. Drop forget,
Heaven is
right there in
you create
your paradise.
Val Vik Feb 2021
Heavy drops for days
immitating the sunrays
'the bonds of heaven'
Haiku # 9
I envision a meteor falling into the ocean, and the commotion bursts into rain (at least from where I am standing). Glimmering cobwebs. Chirping birds drying in my domain. What do you see from the ambiguity of a haiku?
Val Vik Feb 2021
The way raindrops glide
.  with a faint clap of thunder
  .   into coalescence
.        .
.     .
    .    .
   .   .
Haiku # 8
Let us dance and merge into a whole - the reunion of souls
why is it
when the sky is dark, heavy
holding onto every ounce
of moisture it can
just before its fingers
are too exhausted to hold on anymore

when the air is thick, dense
with the weight of the world
resting itself on our chests
and burdening our shoulders
underneath its pressure
that I feel lighter?

my head feels clear
and everything inside of me
which once seemed a mystery
is suddenly unveiled
in a beautiful, crystalline way

perhaps it’s because
when I look inward
at my own atmosphere
I see the fog
I see the clouds

a constant waiting game
to open the floodgates
that reside under my eyelashes
and cleanse my core
of all the things
weighing me down
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