V.S. Atbay

“And like nectar inside the bud,my blood drinks from your blood, beloved,and starves to join the salvation in your eyes;to be understood again and again, by your nakedness and certainty, a humbleness that trickles into the crevices of my seasoned mind.”

“The spirit, my love,is stronger than laughter,stronger than the hungry pantingof reckless lionsthat paw and shuffle underneath the canopy of bowed trees,stronger than the pace of a dying heart, that awaits to be pumped to life by episodes mothered by time,by hands of mankind,by slivers of hopehidden in the common mind.”

“Why are you so hard on yourself?I love you just the way you are,with your withered coat and wet scarf dangling like a spotless chandelier.The snow banks in Montreal are high, but I can see your trace, and silent grace and tin cup through the paned window.The precipitation melts your face, distorting your expression through the aged glass; broken, when I threw ancient stones to get your attentionas a child.I wanted a friend. The honest kind.”

“Unlike the bough that shook off her dead leaves violentlylike a wet terrier,unlike the beating of the butterfly, her wings, against the cocoon, some dreams never made a move.”

“Let the wet earth embrace you firmly, soundly. She needs to be revived, she needs to beat like a heart full of adrenaline inside a chest.”

“All beautiful distractions, ignites from you.”