beauty, Death, Desire, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry, Writings

A Girl’s heart is never hers.

Call it a predicament,
Or the nature’s curse,
As soon the girl blossoms into a woman
her heart is never hers.

It belongs to the roots:
Her parents, her family,
Her unknown love, devoid of the sorrowful meetings.
A transaction she never prefers.

She sit in her balcony
For the sky teases her for sorrowful palette.
These wonders if everything, falls in her place
This heart transacted with a pulse of sorrow,
blooms into the autumn light of hope.

There is something about your face,
I wonder and wonder and never fail.
This heart somehow I feel is mine, tell me a price.
is it A knife, some blood, a meticulous sacrifice ?

Come back now, in the winter we promised.
Retrace yourself, somehow.
This heart deluded of our voices.
its our, for now. forever somehow

Make it the last sun,
the last moon,
the last meteor.
I want this time to last.
For chase me now, as you can,
As spring chases winter.
every then, somehow

SB

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fiction and poetry

Drift

as you drift away, In the bus whose windows

are nothing but drops of the last night’s rain.

Remember, these castles

and cathedrals : memoirs of a fading

glorious past, these icy beaches and almost kissed shorelines,the sun hiding somewhere in the clouds. This wind, just before it rains,

This all brings me back to you.

So if your fingers tingles with a breeze,

Its just me dreaming of you.

I am not there but somewhere I shall slip into your heart with a smile for no reason.

Bear this presence till you reach your destination, this journey is nothing but a pause, where I wait for you, as always.

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beauty, creative-writing, dream, Fiction & Poetry, Heart, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry

Yesterday

Yesterday I thought of you
And the yesterday before 
It seems as if my yesterdays 
Are full of nothing more. 
It is not only yesterdays 
of which you’ve entered in

For tomorrow is soon to come
Where more thoughts of you begin
to never end, dissolve or disappear.
This is my beautiful paradox.

My prison without keys
My evening without the sun
My heart without memory
For you are always there.


SB

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beauty, creative-writing, dream, Fiction & Poetry, Love, Poems, Poetry, Writings

Time

I tried talking but somehow couldn’t 
I waited but it was not worthwhile.
How can I make you a moment,
and disappear forever 

You stay and exist as a glass,
beautiful and untouchable ,
Even In my house of touches.

I am not the winter that dies,
Not the summer that is unbearable,
I am the moon, 
I work on the tides.

Shall we dive once?
As you promised.
I need you in waves,
To drift wherever you want.

Just once again.

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beauty, creative-writing, Desire, erotica, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Poems, Poetry

Black Warmness

Your hair floats
as a messy dark forest in wind,
Curled up like a serpent in a river
The eyes are chalices of sparkling wine
With lips drenched in deep untouched unknown colors.
A smile withers from you,
Tempting everyone bit by bit,
The neck is sculpted with intricate flesh,
an arch of collarbone is an icing on this cake
with a smell that can make you forget memories.

The curve moves its own way
Like breeze over rain
The bottoms round and soft
comforted within
the desirous coloring inners
thighs are melodies of your movement
with fair and soft toes
moving at the helm of tempting back.

The pink wet lips, drown my eyes, as my hands trace its origin slowly to your chin, tempting its way to below within the warm black dress

The bra unhooks from behind as my lips move ahead from your back to the shoulders and neck,
Close your eyes now and feel the touches in motion

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creative-writing, Desire, Fiction & Poetry, Heart, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry

Temptation

The collar bone is a mellow beauty
held by infallible black straps of the unknown
that leads to softer dominions of flesh below.
Your smile above is etched in the eye,
But my hands forget those after

The lips are poignant and colorless,
That tempts the tongue to unthinkable pursuits,
The curve slips off like a fine bottle of sun kissed glass.

The breasts and waist are sculpted of desires
draped in black
An ice cube would melt and jump off the way
Of your curves, kindled by your wamth.
Just think, what it would to my words,
When they touch your lips.
Brewing temptation in my ink.

The unbuttoning continues,
The eyes are not shy of the sun now,
But of my eyes teasing every glance of your flesh,
The cleavage is an abyss molded within the bra
I trespaas them to the soft breasts held firmly within it.
Don’t whisper now, just moan.
Tell my fingers where to move now,
Should i unhook the way your eyes tell me to.

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creative-writing, dream, Fiction & Poetry, Heart, Life, Love, Poems, poetry

Numb

The sky is gray

A continuous shade

I bask in its glory.

The mud turns to clay

A storm is in play

But it never comes.

Each day stays the same

I don’t have to change

A stagnating story.

Your picture is still there,

a lip balm disappears.

Some memory of yours , still undone.

The sky is gray

I love this cliché

I’m comfortably numb.

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