the photograph of you, my love
in my wallet, makes up for
all the times, i didn’t have much in them


oh how my love, it is but my sweet fortune, to have known what you seem to write and feel like; even if all of it were but distantly

oh how when you my love, wrote about those walls being alive; i couldn’t help but imagine them harboring more than just life.
oh how my love i could seem to see just not through them, but also in the future that lay enclosed in them.
with oh your hand in mine, oh how my love, the nights that passed, under the open sky, beside whom i love; you.
oh so close. oh so warm, like nothing i’ve felt before.
oh my love, the stars began to feel mere, after looking into your eyes oh so pretty
dreams of having children, still felt beautiful; but oh how my love, making love to you still seemed to feel, more exquisite; for it was but the essence of all the dreams that i see
oh how beautiful does just these snippets of a dream that oh i see, feel?

oh the words to you, inspire me. oh the love in you, nurtures me. oh the path, away from you, repels
for i belong just with you.

noor means light, if you’re wondering.

i stumbled upon this blog and well, the lady behind those words just felt really beautiful. there was something in her words that just felt so pretty. also a rather wise one; the romance to her is silent, but i still heard it all.

and so she inspired this. wrote whatever i felt, really

also read a few people, who are rather upset and just cold. and whatever the reason maybe, i ask one and all, to not succumb to this feeling.
i wish for love to exist not just within my blog, but in every crevice of this society; no matter where you’re caged or buried.
hope doesn’t need to be filled in every page of your life. just a few words, in a book that seemed rather blank, is enough and all you would ever need.

with love

kohl around the petal-eyed one

oh the most beautiful of what i’ve ever written have words, that felt the softest to me
for oh my love, the most i’ve written love, was only after meeting you

oh if my writing felt naive; then oh it was in your ways, i wrote it from

oh if my writing felt simple; then oh it were your eyes, i reflected it from

oh my love,
if my writing felt warm
then know that
it only had your name

knocked on yours; dreaming

to build a home
for all of you and me
that oh will stay until;

a lil more than, forever

loved you, when you were a flower and shall still; bud

times can be confusing. but the mist clears itself soon. do not let who you truly and purely are within, change. for if you lose track of that, all will be lost.

all shall be well.

with love