Always walking with clouds

 

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My man, meadows

The sea side is far from here. The meadows sway in their own faint little tunes. This grain matches my mustard color sweater. I like the color of the sun; the way the light reflects across the sky in beams and touches my sweater. If you were to look closely into my eyes, you’d see the reflection of the blue sky that I’m glancing at. I can’t help but somewhat smile. I feel that he is here. That he knows just where to find me over these hills. Today’s a beautiful day, and I can’t help love this beautiful earth with its majestic colors… I guess I’m a pauper. I’d rather lie out here and live to live like this, and die like this. I never want to be in a different state. I wouldn’t know myself when I’m angry. It isn’t who I think of. Skin red and hot, flushing blood. And the speed at which I run, running away, running towards. This lust for power… no. I just want to be in love forever. Your heart is so genuine, and so lost we are together. Your eyes, there’s a spiral staircase in them that goes somewhere. I’m lost. I lose. There’s a white flag rising next to me; I’m no fighter. You, the world that created you, this world that we’re lying atop; this is all that ever means anything, this is all that I’ll ever remember. I don’t even expect you to find me here, you’re with me everywhere.

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Orange flood of light

Back in the time of Vishvamitra,
Making love under the sunlight
Your hand on my hand
And an orange flood of light
Warm hues in the sky, earth, and the seas
Yellow mellow scents; orange blossoms and a crowd of marigolds
A joining together type of feeling
A trusting zen-like breathing

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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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