Heres Estrella

More Stars than There are

Tag: beauty

Fall from within The Cave


is beauty more noticeable when it is rendered limited and incomplete—a tease?

Beauty Remains

Chestnut eyes
Glistening like rich amber,
Kissed by the Sun.

Scintillating a luster
so provocative
yet Ancient,

Irresistible is one
to be Entirely pulled
down the Timeless Stream
of Ancestral tales,

Now
All Condensed into
A Pair of Irises,
Shining translucently
In bottomless
Mink—

Such is
Their deeply settled and
Undiluted shade,
That in its Resolve,

Rose a Piercing
Sheen, prudently gazing
Upon the Millennia
In thousands Hitherto,
Or ever after.

Is This
The only Beauty
Tragedy is ill-fitted
to bury
Six-feet-under?

 

A New Friend

                                             a mutual understanding

A Butterfly Effect

in capturing these blossoms gracefully—she does not know it yet, but a step towards abolishing imprisoning motifs—ones that dictated nothing pretty would ever come out of her fingers and palms, had already taken place, carved deep and sturdy into the clockworks of Fate

A Quiet Afternoon

I stood, and waited, in silence--as the nearby youths played--I took deep breaths that drew no sounds. Later that day, I sat and enjoyed a piece of flan. It was a good day.

I stood, and waited, in silence–as the nearby youths played in their spring-time zest–I took deep breaths that drew no sounds. Later that day, I sat and enjoyed a piece of flan. It was a good day. 

Do We All, and Always, Run and Hide?

There is no Pill
Or Beverage

That can fix
It
All—

One can run,
Into the open,
Escape the slaving dungeon,

But darkness
Follows, and condenses
Wherever He should

Lay to Rest—

One can forever
Run,
Only to realize

A Life’s Time
Is not enough
To hide.

So Young one,
You and your
Unspent Beauty,

Take to the Strenuous strides;

Learn to work
In darkness,
But resting in Light.

A Mid Summer Dream

a happening in late june

                                               happenings in late june

No Sounds

in the curated sun

                                                 in the curated sun

Remains

the deceased young

                                  young, deceased; aromatic all the same

My Muse

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