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 Jul 2014 Thenay Cora
Zajan Akia
between my thoughts
she streaks like eyes
down lines of farmland
razed for tithes

a naked field
to the nines
dressed up in sunsets
through ribbed spines
love
 Jul 2014 Thenay Cora
r
My fingers trace
your contours
in my thoughts.
The highs and lows,
your inclines
rise and fall.
Spaces in between
grow distant
from ridge and valley
to coastal plain.

Through uncharted territory
I follow the beaten path
till trail turns to sand
and desert meets ocean.

Contours fade
and wash away.
You slide into
the deep blue
and cross the border.

r ~ 7/5/14
\¥/\
  |      Lost
/ \
It is the twisted teal torrents of water
That gush through its heart.
It is the paint on the walls
And the Ancient museums full of art.
It’s the beauty of the city center
The shops and the boutiques.
It’s the bells of the green trams,
Winding down the cobblestone streets.
It’s the wind on my back
And the sun on my face
It’s the way when I go out,
Hours are lost without a trace
It’s the people floating down the river
In the heat of the year.
It’s my feeling of security,
Because here there’s nothing to fear.
It’s all the unique traditions,
Passed down from generations.
It’s the faces of the people,
One from every nation.
It’s the feeling I get
When I just walk around.
When I take in what’s around me
The sights and the sounds.
It’s the knowledge that
In this city I have grown.
It’s all the things I’ve learned,
That I may never have known.
It’s when I sit still in my room,
And know that there’s so much left to explore.
It’s the opportunities I have
To do things I’ve never done before.
It’s the archaic beige bridge
That stands down town.
It’s that path we like to walk,
Or that cute cafe we found.
It’s those beautiful books I bought,
The ones I know I’ll never read.
It’s the happiness that comes
With the quiet life I lead.
It’s how much more there is to discover,
So much beauty I’ve yet to see.
It’s that feeling of contentment
When you know you’re where you’re meant to be
The more I learn about this city,
The more my heart desires to stay
And know I may be wrong,
But I think this could be home someday.
Pour out your soul
Like water on the ground
You get ***** in the mud
That's where life is found
Happiness filled these bleak walls once.
It seems so strange, that it was years ago.

-M.H.-
So old and yellowed
The Bible my father owned
I read it by candlelight.

-M.H.-
Frozen garden statues stare
Blankly into nothingness
Eyes that see all but do not
Perceive anything.

I am frozen, cold as ice,
All of me is blank and numb.
I have eyes that see as well,
I'm just a statue.

-M.H.-
How do the wounded ones find a love
that will heal their brokenness,
when no one wants to cut themselves on all of the jagged pieces?

Find your way into my cracked and tired heart,
and make me whole again.

Remind me what it's like to be alive.
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