Spinal Chord

That’s the right foot to start off with.

I hope you all are well. ♥️

Love and light, as always, your

Cookie 🍀

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The Pretty Man 

*

For a man of your stature

You’d think I’d be used 

To standing in the span

Of your arms, less confused 

Less unsettled, not unnerved 

Not so throughly dwarfed 

By the sudden lack of air in my lungs 

That you cause

Your hands fit my waist, your chin 

 on my shoulder,

I always start at that small

 touch of your breath 

We murmur like lost lovers, like

 Star crossed the others 

Whose very existence tempts death 

In this darkness, I am allowed 

To believe all you’ve said 
There is a warmth in faith awry

In your arms there is a belief 

That no lack of conviction or

Fear in the night can steal from me

And all I need, is sacrifice 

One hour against the dawn, is all 

To turn my face and close my eyes 

And not watch the light fall on our wall 

To watch instead your fingers move 

In my hair as I’ll blind disrobe 

Behind me is a lone shadow 

You cast none-  

Pretty words rarely do. 

.

The Pretty Man 

© Yusra 

01.11.2017 .

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Here’s to pretty men who turn your heads inside out. ❤️
Also.. Good morning, my lovelies 😘

Wisdom 

If I knew any better, I’d see you starry eyed.  
Instead of laughing at your wit and sharing our mutual disparagement of an abundance of topics, instead of reading your work out loud in my head as I know you do mine, and having the full satisfaction of understanding as much as being understood, of being as hopeless and defeated a romantic as me- of being as defeated by your own intellect and perception as me- instead of the realization of these things, if only I had wonder instead, I could love you. I would love you. I would love you with the potency of our singleminded writing, the intensity of furrowed brows stringing words in breathing sequence, in the light of quiet sunsets of two people who understand- god, who understand! I could love you- I could! 

If only I could.  

I look at you, as you look at me. Two people who should but are plainly not meant to be. We stand on two neighboring shores, you chasing your ocean and me, drowning in mine. We hold hands in our solitude, both alone together, with love to find, and love to divine.  

Till another time,

Cookie ❤ 

Hiraeth 

Hiraeth. A welsh word for a lost home that can never be returned to. 

I’m curious, though, why the feeling is present strongly enough in the welsh, for them to have a word for it. I know precious little about them- maybe one of you could explain why?

Or maybe, they just recognized something so many people ache for, and cannot precisely name. 

A lost home. Homes lost in people. Homes lost on people. Loss. 
Still finding, 

Yusra ❤️

Stones

We created a stone, you and I
Buried deep within me
Fed it from my blood, nurtured it
with your caring
Day by day, we willed it to bloom
In hopes of harvesting happiness
From its cold surface
We thought that I
Was birthing a world
Just hiding in my shadow

But we created a stone
And it was lifeless
Shouldn’t we have known that
It would never grow?

(c)CM
05.10.2016

Ps. I have a new About Me page, guys! Let me know what you think! 😀