Time is sleeping.
Sand will be the last thing remaining,
Sand that covers planets,
Reflected moonbeams in the sand.
Sand is crumbled mountains and the remains of all that existed.
Sand is soft and white, kissing your foot like clean water.
There is a precise total for all the grains of sand on earth,
As well as for the starry worlds above our heads
(supposedly the same for each, if only we knew it),
But it’s more important to know that the grains of sand
Grow constantly in number and the deserts are getting bigger
And the stars are biding their time.
(Peter Waters)
क्यों यह दुनिया दूसरे से इतनी ज्यादा
I wish not to love you much,
Only to love you well.
Much is but a quantity,
No more shaking hands.
Don't touch your face.
Never stand too close
In a
Her long black hair blowing in the wind
I slowly kiss her soft black skin
The way
Hope Is The Thing With Feathers
"Hope" is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune
Oh my beloved belly button.
The squidgy ring in my midriff mutton.
Your myster
coffee is
all well
and good
Where gilded autumn dazzles hazy morning
And golden leaves sprinkle on marigold bea
Love is a mystery
never to be solved
when two people have a history
and a