Stuck on a
Moment that
I want to repeat in a
Loop and don't like to
Escape ever.

people were playing pretend
caught up in the moment
the moment passed
i had to ask
if the moment would happen again

I will be forgotten
and I am waiting for it.
At first, you realized it
or in the last, you knew about it.
The time that brought you to grow
always explained to you that the suffering seems like the voices you can’t hold.
I will be forgotten
and you knew that I am waiting for it.
You tried to tell me about it.
But at first, I decided to be calm in every moment I can do.
The wind that blows.
The sun that always let me glows.
It will be remembered.
but I will still be forgotten.
The story that told you in every book you love just leave me memories.
That’s a gift so I had to keep them as I had many glories.
I will be forgotten.
All I wish I could do is only tell you
so it will be remembered.

These passing moments
strike me as
most beautiful,
for even I can tell
that the present
will blossom
into an evocative,
eternal bitterness.

I cherish this
fruitless heartache
with renewed ardor,
as it is the only proof
I had ever loved.

What do I even owe to you?
The stories you brew,
Were from your side
Now let me tell mine, now go hide!
You broke my heart, and only told lies
I didn't have a clue, but now I despise
Every moment I ever thought of you
I thought you did the same, it wasn't true
Told I didn't gave "us" a chance
When I was purely in trance
But I wish you know, how happy I'm now,
And I  wish someday you'll too only have love to endow.

accepting nothing
think without disconcerting
the unity of—
hear

Umbrella tangos
With a long-faded Cubs cap
In the sudden gale
Halestruck street swift abandoned
Stray dog their sole spectator

tis a perfect summer evening. a blood shot moon inches across the night sky in the city of sin. the sage and the enchantress sit at an outdoor cafe under a lantern lit tent exchanging life stories, as a vintage bottle of ‘82 margaux loses its virginity.  

she could’ve been off the cover of Vogue. clad in haute couture, her slit eyes sparkle like the diamond butterfly ring, she elegantly sports. her complexion near flawless. he on the other hand, a hippie, a yogi and ancient as Rome. living proof that the hour glass can indeed be brutal on a city dweller.

her doe eyes dart from the past to the future while his steady gaze stays in the present. quite like the burning candle on their table. the mercury dips into the night as saintly time simply goes rogue.

written in the stars
this unusual kinship ~~
beauty and the beast


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