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Mystic Ink Plus Dec 2019
Sometimes
One needs to ask
Are you really
Innocent
Or look alike?

Hearing it
The way
They smiled
Will make you believe
No words will justify
Genre: Observation
Theme: Vibes
Note:A friend of mine came to visit, while dinning, the way he thinks, the way he speaks made me urge to ask a direct statement. He is innocent inside out, with a content world of his own. And that was beautiful when less is more.
Wai Phyo Win Dec 2018
When I look at from the varendah
I saw only a green grass floor
on my table full of memoranda
my bed is behind the french door

I am alone standing how lonely!
sure it's not a tranquility
when my room will be homely?
future is unpredictablility

Longing for the day when we can be
marry and having a chat without a pause
while teaseing and tasting one candy
sometime doing a bit of faux pas
CeilingStar Nov 2018
We
Intwined and ornate
Your hand a permanent fixture on my starving hips
Decor draped
Blanketing my cushioned lips
Flowing over curves and angles

Our own knitted home
Featuring every blush and brown tone
Tears crystallized into ornate pillars poised
Our light breath like a foggy void
Blurring up the windows, a spreading shimmer
In our home we live like comfy sinners

KG
Isaac Aug 2018
the longing to be noticed is real
we all want our good to be seen
being acknowledged makes us feel
better than how we have been
whenever it stops to flow
you thirst for its touch
hoping it will show
after slipping from your clutch
if you would bring this desire
to the one who designed you
and allow him to inspire
you will no longer be confined to
relying on people’s praise
now swept up in a homlier place
you will be set ablaze
warmed in God’s embrace
Written 22 August 2018
CeilingStar Jul 2018
I had a dream last night

a dream of thick golden honey
it glazed my mind
with smells of your earthy musk

it smelt like fresh rain on a hazy summers day
amongst the blood red roses, where the green grass grows
gentle breeze fanning wisps of floral tones under my nose

you were stood gingerly, your unmistakable figure
underneath an arch of winding creeping branches
shrouded gently by rays of refracted light, striking streaks
across your soft cheeks and broad shoulders

you stride over, and with a touch of my lips
you smile, holding a rose, clenched in your fist
the thorns drawing blood, almost as if you owed it to them
the red powdery petals speckled with dew
'dangerously beautiful' you mouth

you lean in, intoxicating as the sickly lazy feeling of summer
your hands slithering their way from my lips to my hips
we dance, like bees hovering graciously over daises
and we sway, slow, drifting and lulling me into content

I could feel the crisp grass between my toes
the poignantly earthy smell of the damp soil, and your homely
sweet musk permeating my foggy head
comforting and homely
detached

I just knew even in my dreaming
that I must have this moment with you
and the dewy rose that you gifted me
its stalk dripping with crisp red iron
the breeze and the trees

snapping awake, too cold bleak veil of reality
I've never yearned so badly
desperately trying to slip back into my syrupy imagination
but to no avail

It was just a dream
but one day
I vow we will find it

k.g.
take me away please

— The End —