I dip my fingers in me
thinking of your face.
biting my lips,
figuring out your taste.

you seem like a
drop of sweat on my nape,
honey milk on my waist.

One summer
you shall flow
and the flowers
would glow waiting
for the rains.

Do not haze, neither haste.
the world inside me will tremble,
and so will my skin.

for some stones
now know
how a bud blossom
in the cold snow.

©ladywithpen

I am stone
I do not move

I take my time
I let him come closer

I have only a single bullet
I aim for his eye

I hold my breath
My finger presses on the trigger
I do not tremble

I have no fear

My heart is pacing
thudding against my ear drums
like I just ran a marathon.

I feel nauseous and light.
Breathe
But somehow this word doesn't seem to make a difference.
Breathe
But no sir seems to find a way into my lungs.
Breathe
But somehow all I find myself is being a sympathetic nervous system.
With self doubt crashing
and enveloping me.

My hands are trembling with
jittering nerves passing underlyingly.
Somehow nothing is soothing
Or calming me.

A sudden downpour,
Showers,
Sitting upon the open window sill,
Joyful I feel,
As I sip hot coffee,
And crystal pearls of raindrops caress me.
Refreshing,
Exhilarating,
As more liquid drops sprinkle on the window pane,
Some splashes in my coffee to stain,
My top and jeans.
The gentle wind waltz in,
Intoxicating  my senses,
With the fragrance of scented roses,
Blooming outside on the terraces.
It moves the spirit in me,
A beautiful gracious morning to see.
Pitter patter of raindrops awake the sleeping leaves,
They rustle and tremble in the cool breeze,
Hungrily drink the drops of rain,
Whilst old leaves fall,
To mother earth,their stories to tell all.
Soon,the smiling sun peeps from
behind a cloud,
"Look!" The gardener's son shouts out loud,
A rainbow,
A klaiedescope of beauty I ever saw.