Your hand's smell of the dandelions you stroked last night, of the food you liked and me.
I write poems about people in love and how sunflower are the most beautiful flowers to exist, about autumn and lovers that die of loneliness. Amma says every little thing you do have strings of memories attached to it. It does. You are the most distinct memory I remember. Under the summer skies, when the wind caressed your hair and you smiled a little I remember it more bluntly than I remember my existence. And the way you softly whispered songs along the pink skies paints a memory so beautiful, I wish it stuck like a polaroid in my heart.
Do you remember me like the sunflowers that grow in the backyard or the periwinkle you crushed down your feet each morning during your walk?
In the shades of moon she knits poems in the most beautiful way, words decked as metaphors and love has a part to share. Sunflowers dance to her melody and rainbows shine her way. She carries sunshine in her pocket and stars under her smile, for she's and admirer if the sky. She neatly intertwines kindness in her hair and warmth in her palms , for she writes notes of hope often for the ones that fretch a frown.
@thousand_splendid_thoughts You are one of the most kindest person I have ever come across. You are beautiful inside and out. And you know your smile is contagious right? A million hugs and thank yous for always being there. I know the poem sucks but just know I love you and adore you.❤
I have seen patriarchy bloom in the crotch of women's that spurn blood of bigots. I a daughter of woman like such, Refuse to bloom , into the what they label custom but blooms a flower of misogyny . Slowly, I've seen my mother Naming me a rebel.