Magic world

Magic world

Strange music and late Saturday night,
half a glass of champagne and the bubbles,
chasing blood in my veins made out of rain.

Headache, aspirin and your touch
crumbled in a spoon with strawberry taste,
whisking wonders, holding tales about

castles in green, wizard’s kiss and I feel Queen.
Amber shadows dancing in the arms of  lions
and the edges of my silk gown sending me back to reality.

The same music again, but early Sunday morning,
too loud to see anything shining, instead  I hear
smoky windows moving in opposite directions and

the scent of the pillow next to me,
the smile on your face lettered with whispers,
escaping winters, reviving magic worlds.

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“Dreamscape” by Brittany Smith/elestrial/ on deviantart.com

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© 2010  Broken Sparkles

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Love

Love

Eyes stalking the sigh of trails, leering at me,
scanning my face, my emotions, my mistakes.
It’s murky midnight, but I behold the glaze.
The broken light didn’t blind the spice in the air.

The veil of unknown strangeness is blurring
the last star shining behind the window and
flimsy flare conflicts newborn radiance,
while lonely feather tickled my cheek and ate one tear.

The taste of  breaking dawn demolishing pure words,
the whisper, the wind wrestling in haunted lips,
saying something is ready to come, close to my heart,
but yet so faraway in miles, miles I could hardly count.

I quest to find roses, scent and thorns.
I wait, I wish for the arrows to get to me.
And day after day I ask for my life back,
I ask for that trembling voice to wake me up.

Coming and going promises, fears, decisions,
the rebound uneven,  the prize uncertain.
Another puzzled stranger in me, holding vague feud:
” Love, how can you author so much torture? “

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“Love” by Blaga Todorova

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© 2010  Broken Sparkles

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Your kiss

 Your kiss

One moment, dizzy seconds,
escaped out of time,
found shelter in the space
between your face and mine.

Flash secured in the air
that we breathe,
whispers coming out unevenly,
chasing the contours of our eyes.

Hearts with chaotic rhythm,
facing desire and pain,
searching for the edge where
the torture would somehow end.

Hope in the static and
the touch of flesh on flesh,
fingers in my hair,
hands on your arms.

Climbing butterflies on my back,
expecting your move,
slipping silence over you,
wanting to reach me.

One moment without direction
and with it one breath away,
enclosed in time,
caught in a kiss, your kiss.

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"Lovers" by Silvio Schoisswohl

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© 2010  Broken Sparkles

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