The sorbet-souffle clay of dusk entails
a full realization,
as ethereal as it is, like scent of rose
or musk— I am convinced, the universe
is out to tell me things,
silhouetted against the sun, my heart
reaches a conclusion.
Aren’t they too a witness of beauty,
haven’t they stirred countless
times in bosom, gypsy wildflowers
of pastel blush and white;
drawing examples of freedom and wild
one learns only after tasting the edge.
Looking up at the sky, I now understand
why people fall so deeply;
why spring’s bouquet holds no allure
without a little ache,
orange-gold hues melting in water
as the world catches on;
love means never having to say you are sorry.
Photo credits: Pinterest
“Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” [from: Love Story (1970)]
For Napowrimo Day 14 🍹💕
I am hosting MTB tonight at dVerse and invite everyone to try a new form
known as Line Messaging. Come join us!