White roses sleeping in champagne

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White roses sleeping in champagne

He sits by the window,
absorbing the reflections of midnight blue.
Inhaling the molecules of her perfume,
counting the raindrops that sculpture her whispers,
their lips rhyming with the silence.

He has this vision, almost sparkling,
how her curls chase
the naked beauty of his shoulders.
He holds her with the grip of a hunter,
letting her lean into the sands of his eyes.

He dishevels the rhythm of her heart,
fierce, with the touch of a windy moonlight,
just enough to show her the essence of love …

* * * * *

Inspired by “Apricot Standing in Red Wine” on Outlandos D’amour

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Image by Brian Mcguffog on http://free-photo.gatag.net/

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© 2011  Broken Sparkles

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Adagio

“But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.”

~ Kahlil Gibran

Adagio

by Blaga Todorova

between melodies and lyrics,
between beats and strings
touched by the fever of lovers passion
and sweetly bruised lips,
bright, burgundy music
stirred in white roses and in longing
moves like a sultry wind.
for every second of a burning day,
for every ray of moonlight
and every time a candle follows a dawn
and with every breath that I gasp, aching,
I miss the sound of your heart,
the trails of hands in my memories
and on my skin.

a humid fantasy, as if you are
next to me or at least your shadow
and inside a soft, artistic, sugary laughter
like a river under a melting snow,
like a  gravitating summer
in the rhythm of fragile voices,
like a crystal picture frame
surrounding two happy faces,
when there is a promise
for an amaranthine night,
and there is a song of flowers
growing blind but beautiful,
and an absence of rhymes
in the distant whispers,
or maybe just blurs
out of a Persian poet’s mind.

but the truth is,
the stars once reflecting inevitably
in the green of your eyes,
the mystery constantly leading
the logic away from the silk bed,
the feeling of togetherness
almost reaching out an altar,
demand, daring, to bring back
the last kiss survived,
and there is a chaos of questions
trying to hurt the air,
and a pas de deux never meant to end,
and a luminous harmony in a forgotten adagio.

~*~*~*~*~*~

If you can’t see the video posted on YouTube, click HERE.

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© 2011  Broken Sparkles

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Red Sea Nights

“Je sais les hivers, je sais le froid mais la vie sans toi, je sais pas …”
/ I know winters and I know cold, but life without you I don’t know …/
~Celine Dion

* * * * *

Red Sea Nights

Red sea nights, an inlet in the Indian ocean,
skillfully knitted ricochets of the desert’s mist;
tell me, how do you stand still
under the amber silence of the sands?

Why don’t you storm out and
follow the colors of the moon and the waves,
when a khamaseen is about to be born?

There, in the malachite universe of our hearts
where darters and cranes no longer fly,
there, by the pillars of  the pitch-dark winds,
lifeless, in oblivion sleeps your pristine fire.

Memories scattered with the ashes of the dawn,
obsolete love craving an ignition, red sea nights,
don’t ever forget the water lilies and the kisses.

* * * * *

Red sea in Hurghada/Egypt/ by Marcin81 @flickr.com

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© 2011  Broken Sparkles

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