Sunday, 5 April 2020

Sterling Aches

Am I sightly with the deliquesced silvern onyx
 on my cheeks? Still, though it comes into view
as brought by an ever outgrowing despondence?

Crying comes to be a part of being beautiful, at times. Illuminate those eyes... weep. On my hands, I keep collecting another crystalline drop. I admire its translucence, uniting with the moonbeams. My liquefied emotions, emerging as hyaline gemstones... pellucid, glass-like.

In tears, I am.

Written in 2008, October 28.



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