Lace and pearls

If the world was lace and pearls..all of the prettiest things , would we be happier?

Would we stop killing because the shine of sunlight on a pink pearl was too lovely to spill blood on?

Would boys stop making girls cry because lace is too  pretty to spoil?

Would hunger pains stop in the stomachs of men and children because truffles and hot chocolate are abundant?

I doubt that pretty tastes and things will stop world hunger, rape and pain. Yet everyday we see shinier buildings and expensive dresses. Sitting near those buildings are dying children. Why beautify a world that is dying in pain slowly?

The lost mole

He didn’t realize that he had strayed from his subterranean domicile until a hand-less yellow stick burned his molish nose. He turned his head blindly towards the unseen sun, a large baking pot, and hid his head in the darkness of the burrow he emerged from. The sun, this novice giver of warmth, warmed the hairs on his rear end. He wiggled in his comfort and fell asleep.It was only when a chilled quick draft shot under his hind legs, punching his chin, did he start awake. He stumbled around, to find his warmth-giver departed…long departed for the grass beneath him had also cooled. Sniffling, the lost mole thought something like this: Well the darkness from which I was born, was a constant friend, although cold-hearted earth was her soul-mate, she never left me alone. This new ‘friend’ I have made is a sly one, she slips away just when I entrust my back to her. To the one that lasts, I shall return to.” 

But when he recoiled into the moonless dark, and found his constant shiver-inducing companion, he longed for nothing more than radiance. He couldn’t help but wonder if she had returned in search of him, or if she even loved him the way he had come to adore her. When the curiosity and yearning had filled his entire being, he made his way back to the surface, desperation for her driving him on. He broke through the Darkness, though she tried to make him stay with her familiarity and her incessant dark ways. He strove towards his new love, wondering…forever worrying that she wouldn’t be there …but praying to his God that she was.

And she was.

She bathed him in her rays for hours, as if her only thought was of him , his fury body and hairless face. He thought : I MUST  be the one she loves. Feel how she caresses me, and heats up my tender insides, dispelling all of the coldness therein. I love her. 

But again ,she left. He waited for her, though his heart ached in her absence. But she always came back , sometimes though, as time progressed, her warmth seemed reluctant or hardly there. But he stayed , forever longing for the warmth she had given in the beginning.

Never did he remember her, the darkness, who stayed where he could find her, even after he left. He was a boy-like mole.

Drifting waves

These shores seemed to be so near before, as if their coasts fit perfectly together. But as time runs forward, and continents shift, they moved and broke , until all the pieces that fit could no longer be found. Instead they lined up as in a row , totally unrecognizable, and keep the islands from meeting again.

February miscellany

For some strange reason,very late night showers never seem to satiate me.Their warmth diminishes in the coolness of the dark, keeping my bones chilled. I always step out shivering, with the sudden realization that I may never step naked out of a bathroom to man whose eyes could only be intoxicated by me.

But for now, the boys with the sweet smiles, and wild eyes will woo my heart enough. Of course, they’l never see my virgin flesh, but they’ll see my heart all the same. I’ll give them the care and words I truly think they deserve, and i’ll try only to see the good. But some have the whispers embedded in their souls from birth

_liyah haqq 5:54am