Melodies of birds, carried on gospel winds, greet the rising phoenix. Caught in its gentlest gale, evening subsides to rest again. Such is the silence— fit for a phoenix.
Let the mariachi band serenade your appetite. Grilled chicken, rice, beans, and veggies wrapped in a light poncho of flour— a dish where you can taste its music, culture, and color.
There, within your reach, hangs an immature heart. You’ve dreamt of its taste and traveled far for its knowledge. Seclusion will be a memory now. Twisting and pulling, the fruit comes undone at your hand. Savor this unrequited love, not of your garden but of another.
Alone, taking patterns and material to sew colors that only your love can express. Quietly choosing the right emotions and threading your soul carefully. I’ve mistaken your happiness when you smiled, while wearing the shirt you made. Some of the buttons have gone missing now and there are holes and stains all over. You rush... Continue Reading →
I can’t rhyme it because it’s something you taste, hear, touch, and see. I mean, we can Taste a sunset; Hear a field of marigolds; Touch the citrus twist; and See the cleansing aroma it illuminates. An orange reminds me of love, motivation, and individuality. It doesn't need to rhyme or make sense,... Continue Reading →
Encased in bronze, I became a masterpiece. Death of a child? A cheating husband? Only their minds can rush the truth. My screams are silent and eternal. The pain immaculate and perpetual. What am I to them?! The rain cries on me now— tears I think I deserve. My eyes trapped behind cold hands. If... Continue Reading →