Wrapped

Wrapped up in you
Wrapped in foils of shining colors
That turn, and shift, and turn
Rotating in the sphere of you
Immersed in pieces
Of you
Resting near your heart
Whispering your name

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Boxed shell

How real is this fact
That I’m out here, able and intact
Underneath shelters and shelters of
Clothes, blankets and thick walls
Preserved in like a specimen
Segregated and closed off in a pitch black cellular chamber
That’s silent, faraway, and forgotten
Awake, with a buried heart that wonders
Whether there’s a man in a forest
Who could hear

 

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Burning wood

Quiet nights
And the midnight stray dogs that bark
The scent of burning wood
Clay pots and runny rice
On a stove made of fine earth

I’m wearing my favorite cotton dress
And peeking out the open window railings
While the cool breeze touches my face
Unlocking my heart
There’s the lingering scent from grandma’s cooking
And a search for a lover in the dark

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Tropical bird

Please don’t leave, he whispered from the depths of his heart
Her forest eyes pierced into his mind and took him elsewhere
Paradise
Where red-yellow birds flew over the rainbow
And the waterfalls drenched into the ground
Don’t leave me, he thought
As he buried his nose in her hair
And got soaked in that waterfall.

In a dimly lit room, there remained only he and she
But when he closed his eyes, she was somewhere else
In paradise
Her dark hair cascading down her back
The piece of clothing around her; green
Her forest marble eyes and her adoring smile
Flashing at him with the peaking sunlight
Her careless walk with the wind
How salty her skin
He clenched the shell of her underneath the dim lights
And begged her not to leave

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Knives

Series of knives, aimed at my heart
Lying on the ground, bleeding
With glimmers of a broken dream, of what once was
Floating and shimmering in maroon hell
Twinkling like stars in the vacant sky
Crusting along the winding route
Trying to find hope, something
Trailing warmth, till it dries

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In her palace

She’s in her palace; her head resting on its beautiful marbled floor. She sighs at the way it cools her cheek on such a hot summer’s day. Breeze comes through the large windows and balconies that surround this grand architecture. They tease her wavy hair strands, which in turn tease her face. She’s listless and still, and the only thing constant is her repetitive breathing. Her chest heaves up and down, slowly, bringing life to the stone surroundings. Her long flowy skirt splatters like paint over the beautifully patterned white floor. The atmosphere is impeccable; it’s an intoxicating mixture of floral scents and dampness. Lilies, jasmines, roses, lotuses, and lilacs. She twists and turns, as she slowly rolls to face the high ceiling. There, a green gecko crosses path. She turns to the side, and several ants are marching by. She reaches an arm out and rests her finger on the ground in front of them. They avoid her finger and continue to march around it. This little play makes her smile for a second. Glancing at the ants, their image blur before her eyes as she looks beyond towards the open balcony. There, the bright green banana trees sway under the sunlight. Then beyond them, she stares at the clear blue skies. This is everything she’s ever wanted. This is everything she has. She hears the sound of a sole peacock calling for its lover. It soothes her to sweet sleep.
She wipes away a sweat drop on her forehead as she regains consciousness. Her hairs stick to the side of her cheek when there’s no breeze.
Her heart slowly thuds in somberness. She clenches her long skirt as she twists over the hard marble.
This is everything she’s ever wanted; she reassures her heart,
before it surges into uncertainty once more.

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