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i love this quote:

the water sustains me without even trying
the water can't drown me, I'm done
with my dying

johnny flynn and laura marling
I've always preferred finding out what time it was by looking at the watches of strangers,
Preferably on a morning carriage where the forgotten time difference from fading holidays meet the eternally shaken bracelets
Strangers, on their way to an oversized office smelling like old tea and leftover birthday cake.

My eyes, moving from one being to the next,
wondering if they woke up in their own bed.
Disparate attires or obedient consumerism, smells of cologne and *****, unironed shirts and loose ties,
Remains of a night too quickly ended or of a morning that started off wrong.
Strangers, burning the courage to face the dread of small talk talk and mindless tasks.

A half hour turnover of faces, smells and stories,
Strangers, unknowingly sharing their lives with me.
Learn to grow like a lotus,
if life hurls you in a bog...
Learn to bloom like roses,
in spite of being in the thorn...

Practise to stay in ash
and still burn like cinder..
Practise to stay under constraint as
coal and still get results as diamond...

Take few steps back, not to
step down, but to leap...
Take your defeats to grow
stronger, not to weep....

Be the injury ,which makes
the comeback sweeter...
Be the artillery ,such that even
your shadow is considered as leader!!
AS YOU THINK , SO SHALL YOU BECOME!!!!
Now there were two of them
Separated between thousands
of read texts and timely
chats touched by sound
but not skin  
Awake in the others sleeping
Sleeping in the others awake  
Restless as they wait
Restless as they wait
I saw you perched there,
Like a cat in a window-
Cliché to say the least,
but beautiful nonetheless.

Moonlight glinting off your hair
bathing the room in silver.

Change the 'in' to an 'and' and remove the 'n' from 'window'-
A Cat and a Widow, humorous right?
"The old cat lady,"
Imagine that, another cliché.
He’s rubbed off on you
brought your rage to the surface
Which is fine
I think
But you can’t be this angry
when you’re drinking with me

Blood will cut the sweetness
of wine on your lips
Any time of day,
the breathtaking colors
of the sky make me sigh,
however ecstatic, or unpleasant
life may be...whatever goes on down
here, she is up there...ever-present,
like a parent...i may be infinitesimal,
yet, i'm never lost in her
immeasurable span of attention.

the sky is a part of me,
and i, of her,
her colors affect my daily decisions,
gray with rains tell me to change plans,
on sunny days, chores are smooth-sailing.
at night, its dome of dark blue, graced
by the moon and stars in many shapes,
makes me recall some immortal tales.

i squint, looking at her vast spaces
as if i'm roaming upon a sunny meadow,
as i go back to my days of triumphs,
my failures...especially
my best moments.

i was born under this glorious firmament,  
she saw my first steps,
and all the firsts in my life,
she'll be watching, until her clouds
start bringing rain upon
my withered ground.



Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
September 2019
(Posted October 26, 2020)
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