czecelee: February 2011

2.2.11

slaves

Slaves of love

Aren't we all?

Slaves of intimacy,

Waiting to fall.

Waiting to be found

In the dance of the search

Soul mates

Throught tears and despair.

Aren't we all,

Looking for love?

Someone to hold,

Our hands, our hearts.

Have you found it?

The true love?

Your master?

Aren't we all,

A slave of love?

i'd like to write this with my hand. with the flick of my wrist. With the stroke of my fingers. With a pencil held between it.
i'd like my thoughts in it. My shadow, my stares, my laughter, and the tears behind it.
i'd like to write this with my palm caressing the paper. with my eyes on the lines, careful not to write beyond it.
with the ink dripping on the pages. bonding with the paper, as one, conveying a message. Hoping you'd have a glimpse of the light behind the words.
The beating of the heart of the writer, i hope you'll hear. inside the pages, you'll taste my tears, hear the echoes of my whisper, the crackles of my laughter in the air. And lend me your shoulder to lean on.
but now, just let your eyes taste the words... and feel. Feel the sensation touching your heart. reaching, reaching... endlessly.
i've shared with you...... a piece of me. -cc-24/3/10

2.2.11

slaves

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