amberglow

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  • amberglow 9w

    Tiny pearls scattered
    the dolphin pendant glimmers
    sunlight striking pure.

    Soumya| ©amberglow

  • amberglow 9w

    Sweat trickles down backs
    Bodies pressed close like sardines
    A train journey home.

    Soumya| ©amberglow
    A Haiku poem 5:7:5

  • amberglow 47w

    Kisses,
    like threads
    of breadcrumbs
    down my throat
    to my heart -
    glass shards.


    Soumya|
    ©amberglow

  • amberglow 69w

    Your poetry is like lightning.
    A flash of eye-catching wonder.
    ©amberglow

  • amberglow 71w

    Just a few sips of wine.
    The marble floor is smooth,
    seeping ice into my flushed skin.
    My mind swirls a heady cocktail –
    awe, envy, love – at the sight of you.
    Gosh, you are beautiful.
    I wish I could tell you that, at least now,
    since I am hopelessly drunk.

    Soumya| ©amberglow
    // Dionysus / 3. XII. 19

  • amberglow 72w

    @writersnetwork

    Picture credits : Pinterest

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    The flowers bloom,
    flaming with pure innocence.
    I hope Life's cracks
    won't render them fragile.

    Soumya| ©amberglow
    // 3. XII. 19 //

  • amberglow 73w

    Why does Time elude me so?
    She trickles – steady, slow.
    Like water through rings, slithering and slipping
    through the eternal gaps in my hand.
    All the grains of sand in the hourglass I see
    won't slide from my grasp faster than Time eludes me.

    Soumya| ©amberglow
    24. XI. 19 // Sands of time

  • amberglow 73w

    @writersnetwork @mirakee

    Inspired by @risingdrop 's post.
    I hope you don't mind that your post chugged my writing train along to reach till here. If you are uncomfortable with me borrowing (and building on) your idea, I will delete this asap.

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    Our love is the night sky. Sometimes, it changes,
    slow, steady, rhythmic, like the phases of the moon.
    And sometimes, it zips across like a falling star
    that holds the ability to grant wishes.

    Soumya| ©amberglow
    // Celestial / 22. XI. 19

  • amberglow 74w

    the veil was lifted
    and I was bared
    to the cosmic essence,
    filled with love,
    the ultimate power.
    we mixed together
    like truth and lies,
    vinegar and oil.
    I had underestimated our skies,
    hidden beneath smokescreen
    and the annoying static on broken radios,
    we didn't fit like snug pieces of a puzzle,
    because we were not the only ones
    to suit each other,
    because change
    is inevitable,
    in you, in me.
    So, we matched
    like chocolate and roasted almonds
    and it made no difference if, one day,
    you were cinnamon, and I was an apple.
    We could be perfect together, whether
    as apple crumble or
    moist chocolate brownies.

    Soumya| ©amberglow
    // Fuse / 16. XI. 19

  • amberglow 79w

    I sit on the floor
    an open suitcase in front,
    it's been seconds, minutes, hours
    and everything's a mess:
    shirts, pants, bracelets,
    shoes, lipstick, bras,
    skirts, stockings, jeans.
    Half a dozen shades of eyeliner. I love them all -
    all the colours, the memories,
    those moments.
    But it's time for me to decide.
    How much weight I'm willing to carry,
    will I hold up underneath it all?
    What should I take with me,
    and what should I leave behind?

    // Safar / 14. 10. 19