Naked, onto the virgin's bed,
She said, "You look beautiful"
And I conformed, shy,
Of the loving, or the praise
And flinched in a moment
Pulling away, almost like a temptress
Only to draw her closer
My lover took me, held in the hazel brown
hypnotism of her eyes
And then flicked through my mind,
the toddler me on the terrace that night
Every night,
In love with the solitary star heavenward.
~Forever. (I wish)
Human beings no matter where they go in the world, will always seek home: in places, in people, in things, and in food. Perhaps because at the end of the day one wants to be vulnerable and yet are loved. We search for a setting where not the flesh, not the bones, but the very soul beneath it is adored and cradled like a newborn, squealing, and needy for love. As long as I lived with my family, I never realized the worth of home, unless one day, I was out in the wide world, alone, apprehensive, and being indoctrinated by societal norms every single day. The only pockets of peace that I was left with was a 'chosen family': a farrago of strangers that I met, and before I could decide to love or hate them, I was entangled with them like wollen strands in the mesh of a new warm cardigan. I have lived with a plethora of strangers, loved them, held them close in my most vulnerable moments, and then cried bitterly when we parted. After a time, both parties agreed on their fate and mo
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