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Lynn 4h
He called me a star
But how can that be true?
My light is only there when I'm next to you

My dad calls my mom the moon
It's supposed to be romantic but to me he's a fool
The moon is a piece of rock
My mom is the whole world

He hold my hands
And tells me I'm the sun
I don't believe him
But it is true love
Swig the morning dew
Join song amongst the blackbirds
This is vintage spring
Dom 1d
Even in the daylight,
I can see you when I close my heavy eyes
If I pretend the sun’s warmth feels like your arms
Wrapping around me like a shield,
Warding off the cold umbrage that crawls for my feet
I won’t be dragged under
When you’re out there, waiting.
Sometimes we just need to appreciate the ones we love, no matter the distance.
January 2d
I wish I could show you,
The sparkle in your eyes.
The same one you're afraid
people won't regard.
as they close their eyes in the rare moments
when you show it just a little
But I wish I could tell you,
it's not because they despise it
but the sparkle in your eyes!?
Its Blindingly Bright
Nehal 4d
I lay down on the ground, ya habibi,
I search for the stars in the sky.
The light symbolizes dark, ya habibi,
I find no stars in the sky.
Not every light's a light, ya habibi,
Not all that shines will ever apply.
Black silhouettes etch the sky,
Midnight streaking its indigo,
Above the weary maple trees,
Sighing as they bend and sway
To the breeze’s quiet nocturne.
 
Beneath, roots clutch the slumbrous earth
With crooked, unyielding fingers,
Unwilling to release their memories,
While stars flicker—half-afraid,
Their glow too fragile to linger.
 
And I, a shadow among echoes,
Strain for whispers of Sunday dinners long gone,
And fireflied nights dimmed by time’s wear,
While the light of my amber youth,
Wanes beneath a pearly moon.
 
Yet as the faint hues of dawn emerge
Blushing the sky in rose and gold,
To soften the sorrows of the night,
I, though dim, let them dissolve
In the silence of nocturne’s passing.
©️2025
Julie 5d
The hush of morning drifts through golden light
The sun is slowly rising…
As she opens the windows
The warmth hits her skin softly
She closes her eyes
Enjoying the warmth
Breathing slowly
— julie
Written on a quiet morning, letting the light speak.
You are in the bathroom,
Fixing your hair the way you like it.

The steam from your shower
is setting into the bedroom now.
I can smell your shampoo.

The skylight casting an early summer glow
across the tiny water droplets speckling your skin
makes you look studded with rhinestone.

The subtle shifting of your weight
creates a curve in your side
and as you drop your hip and bend your knee,
I think for a moment,
that you look like art.

That moments like these are what inspire
The greatest artists in the world.

That I might be like them
if you were my subject,
But I am too busy loving you
To lift a paintbrush.
You’re my muse.
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