sunflower [ poetry/ proses/ quotes]

➸ dalliance

Today everything feels like warmest shade of orange, beautiful, indifferent, unequivocally doomed. I feel like falling in love with the lilac sky, breathing in rose coloured sunlight, hugging the golden hours, kissing the moon, sleeping with deep blue night. Inevitably, I want to write a poem about you, but there aren't words and maybe that's a poem in itself or maybe there's some people that words won't ever be enough for. The habit to look for you in a busy room formed before I could stop it, so let's pretend that my eyes don't light up just at the thought of it. Panoply, our language breaks us so easily. Our mouths can only be so gentle when words are so brittle. They crack and they splinter so let's pretend we don't need them. Let's pretend words will be enough to heal us if they do. Let the sea swallow all sound into silence - tonight I wish to have this crescent silver as sole dining companion, save for the wind and save the roses, rolled into silken fists and prayer, susurring their desolate, candescent chorus. Here is the place the light enters. My body turning five different shades of pink, skin shedding collected moon dust. Heartbeat rewiring itself to beat to a new song. One that sends the people to the streets, dancing after the hurricane. Holy and glorious and humming like a live wire. Whole and gleaming and howling at the moon. Kids under the sun, shaking off the frostbite. Here is the place the light enters, shaking off the gathered dust, erasing its history of darkness.Let their red bosoms swell for me: ripple and heave with dreams untold and desires dark, with all the paradisiacal delight that burns within the arch of sky as night lowers its' shroud of flesh in marriage over the body of the moorlands. Let the pyres shed their light without smoke; tonight I want to have my quince on the high dais, enthroned as benefit of a king; I want my figs and I want for the stars to run with milk, with oils, until the soil is stained, drenched in perfume