The box made of thin tree-meat walls, closed by a curtain door, sealed with hole-filled, rusted roof, again sinks under the merciless river overflow, yet the eight hearts it has been carrying will remain afloat— with warm love, with fearless faith, with ceaseless hope. — 08.14.2018 ©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo via Unsplash […]
Binded but never blinded collection Of letter conniving to form words Of timeless wisdom freeing up minds Kept inside the dark room of ignorance. — 08.10.2018 ©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo via Unsplash For dVerse: Celebrate with me today! I’m celebrating National Book Lovers Day!
Feet floating on notes of a love song we call ours, with blooms of baby’s breath tuck in between my dark hair strands, each step I make will lead me towards the end of my life; the start of ours. Take my hand, it’s now all yours, my love. — 08.09.2018 ©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. […]
While I was walking home, someone called my name. A genderless body wearing a sunny smile, a mist-kissed scent, and a sunset orange glow. “Hello, my name is love. I know I might be hard. But would you come with me, tonight?” Before my surprised tongue could let a word roll out, another face came, […]
No apologies, no regrets, not a single sorry, from the old mouth of the last man standing from the crew who ended the second world war. Japan started the conflict, that was how the US closed it— with two exploding periods. Periods that bent the knees of the Land of the Rising Sun. Periods that […]
One… two… three… what is there for you to see? Will there be a bubbly bee— bringer of positivity, yet with bite, oh, so feisty. Four… five… six… what is there for you to seek? Is there a bullet-size hole where some light will somehow leak— to free the words you cannot speak? Seven… eight… […]
We are made with working pairs. Your right hand got your left. Your left ear got your right. Your right eye got your left. Your left lung got your right. We work with built-in pairs. A scissor will never be a scissor, it should be scissors even when added with the phrase “a pair”. Trousers […]
Sshhh… I am confessing. I am louder when my mouth is locked, when my tongue is still and numb— a willing prisoner inside the jail of sharp, tough teeth guarded by a pair of soft, stubborn lips firm to never let a single word escape. Ssshhh… I am confessing. My throat and vocal chord are […]