These Lives were heaps of feathers

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These words, stain our memories
With hope, like heaps of feathers
Pillows of forever, at the edge of the valley
Of life after digested tragedy
It doesn’t come easy, the expertise
Of knowing when to suffer gladly
And when to abandon oneself to joy
These experiences, like many flowers
Each month blooms to its own tastes
In the dry grass of summer nights
Humid and decorated with
The meaning we give events
I found you, like a “we’ll grow together”
Of how and when ‘forever’ begins
Clock-struck with a person, time accelerates
Love bears fruits like mangoes
In a tropical climate, everything
Tastes better, papaya gladness
Filtered through many doors, reduced by stars.

Photography Courtesy: http://browse.deviantart.com/art/Sunset-Bridge-in-Amsterdam-380622659

3 thoughts on “These Lives were heaps of feathers

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