Walking along the brightly lit windows, scanning the numerous eager faces popping here and there you lose yourself in a world of endless possibilities.
There is Michael, nuh, there's a shop keeper. There are a handful of gorgeous men and beautiful ripe women. All ready to take and be taken. Be Mine, said she holding out her hand, her soul and body. So vulnerable, so so open.
She clings on to her raft as the waves beat against it, one by one shattering dreams, her image of self. The tide takes her to a deserted island, lifeless and gullible. The moment sand touches her bare feet she breaks down, tears roll down her face. For once in days of self loathing,denial and stress , she doesn't feel alone. There is water all around her. She walks towards the ocean till the waves get higher and higher. High above her collar bone, dancing to her heart beat. Knowing fully well she is not a swimmer, heck she cant swim to save her own life, she challenges all odds. There deep down in the ocean, the mother of all that is good stirs taking with its commotion , a life full of lies.
Under the crystal chandelier He holds on to her tightly. His hand, her back. Her hand, his hand. They move around amongst all dancers effortlessly. Each move bringing the two closer together till they reach a point where they breathe the same air. He inhales, she exhales. He leads her away from the dance floor , to a garden under the starry sky. Tonight he will make her, his.
There is a ritual amongst Muslims, to pray five times daily. To take all your deeds, good and bad and seek from your Lord, refuge.
For the one thousand thoughts she has made me think. For the love that is running wild in her heart, for the man who stops the world, for a wronged religion, for the death of a million desires and for a life time of apple tea. I salute you, for being alive.
There is Michael, nuh, there's a shop keeper. There are a handful of gorgeous men and beautiful ripe women. All ready to take and be taken. Be Mine, said she holding out her hand, her soul and body. So vulnerable, so so open.
She clings on to her raft as the waves beat against it, one by one shattering dreams, her image of self. The tide takes her to a deserted island, lifeless and gullible. The moment sand touches her bare feet she breaks down, tears roll down her face. For once in days of self loathing,denial and stress , she doesn't feel alone. There is water all around her. She walks towards the ocean till the waves get higher and higher. High above her collar bone, dancing to her heart beat. Knowing fully well she is not a swimmer, heck she cant swim to save her own life, she challenges all odds. There deep down in the ocean, the mother of all that is good stirs taking with its commotion , a life full of lies.
Under the crystal chandelier He holds on to her tightly. His hand, her back. Her hand, his hand. They move around amongst all dancers effortlessly. Each move bringing the two closer together till they reach a point where they breathe the same air. He inhales, she exhales. He leads her away from the dance floor , to a garden under the starry sky. Tonight he will make her, his.
There is a ritual amongst Muslims, to pray five times daily. To take all your deeds, good and bad and seek from your Lord, refuge.
For the one thousand thoughts she has made me think. For the love that is running wild in her heart, for the man who stops the world, for a wronged religion, for the death of a million desires and for a life time of apple tea. I salute you, for being alive.
