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There are blurs from nights with royal glitter,
sapphires and curtains keeping the moon silent.
Jasmine in the air, absorbing silk and desires,
delicacy matching faint dreams of nebula and you.

There are words from language I barely know,
whispers lost in shadows, symbols crowned with cobalt.
Leftovers from a breeze modeling the fire on our lips,
on the wings of tears, your voice keeps me alight.

There are cravings with no scruples, waves
leading to Shangri-la, our minds insane.
Right now, not a moment later, the smell
of faraway oceans crashing into sweaty skin.

There is a scream drowned in your arms,
a sigh in the shape of curves. Are we still there?
Two tired bodies avoiding the time to go,
two spirits living in the blurs of that night.


©2013, B. T., All rights reserved