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B e n e a t h Page 4
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Page 4
Inside
the Heart
Unmisting the
Secrets
of the dark.
Bring your ear
Closer
Light the Red Lamp
And hear as
I whisper
them.
Open your beautiful eyes
Open them
And see for Yourself
Her Orange Hair
she could move
mountains
but she moved
none
oh ; what power lay
beneath
her fragile mask
of skin
igniting her
spirit
into flames and sparks
flying out of her.
unconditionally ;
enchanting the flowers
by burning as
bright as the
sun,
and having elegance
as beautiful
as the moon.
her freckles
danced on her face,
her eyes sparked
craziness,
and her heart felt
dizziness.
she was madly drunk
in love
with herself.
she knew her flaws,
and loved them
anyway,
like they were
her strengths… from
long ago.
she was not
flawless,
she was just
herself
and that was
enough.
the dews played around
her hair,
orange they were
like fire.
and oh, how they breathed
life
into the blue of
her eyes.
You search for
Her
I know
You do
But
Darling
Why do you forget…
She resides in you?
A body’s Worth
a body
is not a body
it is a shell
enveloping the whole
universe;
rumbling
crumbling
striving – ahead.
the sun lives
in the sparkle
of your bright eyes.
a window to a world
named just after you.
it shines the brightest
in the dark
chasing after the
diminishing light.
the water breathes
in your lips.
words flow in a strong
stream.
and when the cold wind blows,
it burst out; loud and clear.
sometimes there are high tides
sometimes there are low
for sometimes you are high
and sometimes low.
the wind gushes in through
the curved ears
beckoning secrets to
retreat inside, in the darkest
realm.
the moon is surely the
mind ; calm and composed
but even frightfully
spontaneous
urging the tides to flow.
it revolves around
the sun;
and maybe that is why
what you think in your mind
shows in your lovely
eyes.
and the heart is
the moist dirt.
moistening the trees
that make place
in your body as
high hopes
and wishes
anticipating to go
out.
the dirt is the
root of all
sorrow and gloom
and love and bloom.
it speaks when the
moon cannot.
it lives as the
water cannot.
it listens as the
wind cannot.
it believes in you as you
cannot.
so water the dirt and let it
grow flowers of colours that
await you.
and let it speak.
loud and clear.
Thanks
Thanks for reading this book of mine. If you enjoyed it, please take a moment to leave a review at your favourite retailer. You are welcome to send comments to me at [email protected]
Thanks
Arunima Mehrotra