I watched the way you looked into her camera lenses - piercing and disrupting the physics. Hoping light reflecting off you would shine almost as much as your eyes. But all she saw was you, a tenth of your size in her camera screens.
I saw you trying to reason against logic - reasoning that you couldn't quantify and you couldn't test. But all you wanted was one hypothesis to ring true.
~ Pretending in words was too tentative, too vulnerable, too embarrassing to let anyone know. - Ian McEwan in Atonement
Suspended in time like the moments between that cold shiver and your visible breaths we pause.
("Come, let's play a delicate game of stepping between the twigs and leaves and grass. Leaving but the faintest scent over the earthy nostalgia of mud like when you would taste the earth when your face was close to the ground.")
("Hush, love, listen to the birds, let them not fly away and listen to the water, as sunlight dances over it. Hush, love, the dragonflies on your foot, are listening to the wood-songs for their intertwined dance of love.")
Between stepping into the woods, and the water-wading, we paused.
~ Pretending in words was too tentative, too vulnerable, too embarrassing to let anyone know. - Ian McEwan in Atonement
And I find myself chained to one spot where the silence is deafening And all I can do is hear the patter.
Drip drip drip
(with a sense of urgency) I feel the cold from above, my hair like strands of beaten down grass. I cannot see beyond the water weighing down my lids. Cross-legged, with clothes sticking Like someone hot glued it it burns like droplets coursing paths which are now all too familiar.
When will this stop? I need to to feel my heels and not pins and needles piercing through my silence.
I need your help - please, just come.
~ Pretending in words was too tentative, too vulnerable, too embarrassing to let anyone know. - Ian McEwan in Atonement
Dewdrops grace the soft white; gently unfolding, by the glow of the morning gold A dance, unobserved by most, of the smallest bounces against the breeze, emboldened, she stretches her tender petals to envelop her world in the scents of honey-white, morning love. Fragrances of self assurance, never imposing soft and pure, these green veils I have brush against her blossoming curves; she tugs at me and pulls me into the wind, winding into our waltzes.
yen mallipoo, kaadhal vaasam kaatril varugidhae.
~ Pretending in words was too tentative, too vulnerable, too embarrassing to let anyone know. - Ian McEwan in Atonement
Posting the ones I haven't because I'm a lazycat and I have no work today. I think I'm one behind from yesterday.
5. Train-wreck
Spoiler! :
A smell of mustiness and foods hangs in the air, the woman's nose wrinkles as she walks past men with grabby hands and boys sneering, spewing out numbers and Milfs. Her back against the windows, hiding the bruises she sways with the movement of the wheels. Pendants dangle, and giant chokers blending in with red lines around it. People stare at that plunging neckline Mumbling words of deservedness -- She's seen it all. everyday, at home. The woman's nose wrinkles again - For one moment before she cries
Last edited by Lava on Thu Apr 13, 2017 6:51 pm, edited 1 time in total.
~ Pretending in words was too tentative, too vulnerable, too embarrassing to let anyone know. - Ian McEwan in Atonement
weave your fingers through my sticky ones stealing fingerlicks "honey, don’t mess up the house" the honey drizzles down whirring up an emotional storm as the white dust settles, and brown dust takes over - let this sweet confection (confessions) make you smile.
~ Pretending in words was too tentative, too vulnerable, too embarrassing to let anyone know. - Ian McEwan in Atonement
A second layer of blue skin pale, and stretchy it sticks to my sweat. I yearn for the familiar hold of the pipettes and the sound of the centrifuges stopping. To feed my baby cells and to see them, magnified to prod at their existence prod at life.
~ Pretending in words was too tentative, too vulnerable, too embarrassing to let anyone know. - Ian McEwan in Atonement
Your crown glints under the summer sun (like a snapchat filter) handing over mangoes, this photo will live in silver against my chest. Against the sweet tartness of tender coconut. your smile, it curves like watermelon slices- glancing at the silver splendor showing stories of the past and future. You are sticky stains of kulfi --licking off my fingers
my sweet summer respite.
~ Pretending in words was too tentative, too vulnerable, too embarrassing to let anyone know. - Ian McEwan in Atonement
She senses the smell of anticipation of quivering feet and second guesses but the smell of broken bottles and the fear of sharp claws overtakes she rattles of the names now all too familiar like the burns on her skin ---- sulphuric her hands ,weighed down by jewelery she didn't have ----hydrochloric Her bruised fingers, yearning to feel the crispness of a 2000-rupee note. -- and nitric the burns she couldn't bear she lit the fire.
~ Pretending in words was too tentative, too vulnerable, too embarrassing to let anyone know. - Ian McEwan in Atonement
The faint rustle of the banyan leaves beckons sitting in the summer shade with its branches reaching out telling you tales as old as pakkathu-veedu-paatti - waking up the neighborhood carrying her father's pride - the radio player cackling out Suprabatam.
The roots, one too many, each with a story playing about in its own times, in adventures of bridge-making. Patti told me to worship the sun that feeds the earth and all of her children whose tales are as entangled as the roots of the banyan tree; like you and me.
i am merely a bridge trying to make sense of two variants of the same, you say vee i say wee - trying to feel the fabrics Of interwoven tales my dupatta to your coos of "such a colourful scarf"
~ Pretending in words was too tentative, too vulnerable, too embarrassing to let anyone know. - Ian McEwan in Atonement
14. Kind of wrote this after an interaction that day
Spoiler! :
The starbucks line snakes out the door for five whole minutes staring at the words and sounds of drip coffee and espresso whizz of machiatoes and frappucinos wondering where my name fits in To their sickeningly sweet (spoonfuls of simple syrup swirling down layers of throat) "can I get a name for your cup"
Say my name, say it without that expression in your eyes the one you don't know Of distaste and confusion, mingled With flecks of curiosity (sometimes, just sometimes there's genuine smile - i would hope to believe in humanity's inherent goodness and similarities)
can you, for once, Pause and listen, before binning the words into baskets of structures ( you claim truth) of lost sounds?
~ Pretending in words was too tentative, too vulnerable, too embarrassing to let anyone know. - Ian McEwan in Atonement
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