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Memory 37 Who knew necklines were so precious, that one's soul dangles from them like half hung lace? Who knew that those happiness lines under your eyes will suffocate me, that your odor will inhabit my body, kicking mine away into oblivion? Who knew that under the same light, memories can get swallowed and shadows grow wide, that forgetfulness embraces you like a big-size jacket with pockets, ripped for you to slide off... Who knew hunger visits the restless to feel the joy of satiety, of distraction, of escape? But not to those who crave it, for they have been satiated, far too many times. And why would the bird be happy if it sang and the road be hard if it is dirty? And why would the earth take us all in? Is it because the souls willingly walk away barefoot, wishing not to tamper with the richness of the soil, not to disgrace the land of the holes? And how could the melody not be repeated when it's sung from extremes, be it extreme joy, happiness, dullness or fatigue? Why would it not crawl on a baby's fingertip as he sucks on it as a child and as a man? And why wouldn't that melody end itself, when it falls in love with its own rhyme, when its own dance bedazzles it, into dizziness, until it falls down in its author's sigh... And why wouldn't I allow myself to be sad, morbid, even morose, but aye-not depressed? Why wouldn't my face disown its color and turn brown like petty soil, not good enough to keep, but might still have some growth in it, for a weed? #Unreal #Poetry #Body #Imagery #Emotions #Memory Visit our shop and subscribe. Sponsor us. Submit and become a contributor. Like us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter. CommentsComments are closed.
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