Azul despejado,
iris color mar es lo que yo quiero mirar,
en aquel castillo dorado
que tanto anhelo explorar.

A tu lado sería feliz,
como primavera en otoño,
como aguas que no se mezclan.
Eres el tesoro escondido:
mi arco Valori.

Tu amanecer es como aquel arco amarillo,
tan lindo como el sol,
tan desplegable como las estrellas.
Quisiera estar entre tus brazos.

Un minuto de silencio.
Oh, mi lord:
esto ha llegado a su fin.

"Don’t mind their judgment or wilt for their say—
Once mortals behold you, they'll all drift away.
You won’t need these petals or roots to remain,
You’ll be sung in sonnets, not whispered in vain.”

Lotus said all these words with such great love
A love too polished, too practiced to shove.
It wrapped around Rose like the promise of a vow.

"Where is this throne you all speak of in bloom?
Is it real—or merely a crown veiled in doom?”
Rose asked Lotus, with her petals drawn tense
like a trembling stem in the wind, unsure of defense.

The throne,” Lotus said, “is no pedestal crowned.
It beats in the thumping hearts that gather around.
Not shaped by the hand, nor born of the clay.
But risen each time a mortal looks your way.”
Azure, the Tiller, heard all but stood still,
Like old loam that waits at the foot of a hill.

“What is a throne?” Tulip didn’t quite say
"Is it filled with fragrance that never goes away?
Is it stitched in the petals that never fall down?
Or tucked in gazes that hollow a crown?"

Daffodil said-"If we linger in lore, we’ll root in despair
Let’s find the path out, while we’re still aware.”
"Let's consult Lotus on this " Marigold told.
"Before we become myth at the threshold.

A rosewater and sugar flavored dream
That stokes a burning star within the heart
And fills the eyes with galaxies a'gleam.
Fantastic hopes rekindled from the dead
Of happy endings no poor odds can thwart
Race through a mind lying awake in bed.
Many a fantasy has filled my head.

5 more minutes
I’d mumble
Wake up
Repeating
I’d mumble again
Wake up
Louder, a yell
Wake up
Wake up
A scream
Wake up
5 more minutes
I yell
I scream
An acquiesce
Because what’s 5 minutes
When you have your whole life

Let her sleep
she’d mumble
A sigh of muffled relief
Burrowed in a sweaty pillow
escaping to my dreams again
Where 5 minutes feels like 5 hours, 5 days
5 more minutes
I’d say half asleep
At 5, 6, 7
13
15
Wake up
17
Nobody wakes me up now
I awoke

At 22
I miss you
5 more minutes
I say to no one at all
I want to escape to my dreams again
You only live there
Where you stroke my skin
And nothing is wrong
And 5 minutes feels like a lifetime

I wish a day could stretch beyond its twenty-four hours;
allowing dawn to linger while I savour breakfast in calm;
no frantic check of time as I pour my tea;
no rush to dash for transport or meetings.

Morning light would flood my window long enough;
for slow stretches and thoughtful planning;
I'd arrive at work with minutes to spare;
settle into tasks without scrambling notes.

Lunch would become an unhurried affair;
a proper break with laughter that lasts;
afternoon hours would hum with clear focus;
projects advancing at a steady, unrushed pace.

Evening could unfold like a second dawn;
time to practise hobbies or wander with friends;
family dinners would not be a race against the clock;
conversations deepening as hours drift by.

Social outings need not end at curfew's chime;
late-night talks stretching into starlit freedom;
then at last I'd choose my rest: eight, ten, twelve hours;
each second mine, reclaimed from life's tight measure.

"Have you ever tried choking?" He asked nonchalantly.
“No,” she said. with a wrinkled nose of disapproval

“Want to try it?” His approach couldn't hide his excitement
“Ok,” she said, absent-mindedly running her index finger over his lips.

“you  can  choke  me,” she added slowly,
“if I can stab you repeatedly
with the 7 inch stainless steel
nail-file I keep under my pillow.”
.
.
Songs for this:
Me and the Devil by Soap&Skin
Better By Myself by Hey Violet

once, a blonde, sandy head entered my view,
with eyes of clear skies, shiny drops of dew,
a laugh of windchimes and stars, ringing true,
a smile of cherry cola, sweet and new.
transfixed, i gazed, entranced and enchanted,
at the misty sunlight, almost dancing
around her, as seeds were firmly planted,
at the sight of a nymph prancing.
but suddenly, i was back in English,
and she was looking at me, the angel,
her soft dimples framing her face, sheepish,
as she reached for a pen, somehow graceful,
while i stuttered out a yes, mumbling,
and cupid groaned, my own heart stumbling.