Storm and Light

Her smile lights up my carved wounds. 
A defiant radiance piercing the sullen sky of existence, daring the world to be less bleak.
It startles like a memory of summer in a city bound by frost. 

Her heart is the capricious monsoon, 
Shifting from tender drizzle to relentless storm
A restless sky, mostly cloudy,
Heavy with unspoken storms.

Her hair descends like a celestial accident, 
It cascades down her shoulders like 
A forgotten poem unraveling in the wind. 
Her hair falls like something torn from the heavens,
A rift in the sky where midnight escapes.
It tumbles in dark waves, untamed and fierce,

Her eyes are cosmic abysses—twin infinities where the stars drown willingly,  
Where no astronomer could fathom. 
Constellations shimmer, fragile and fleeting, 
In their depths where light surrenders.

Her face is an unfinished masterpiece, 
Each line drawn with tender precision.
The canvas seems alive, as each brushstroke
of sorrow and glee blend effortlessly. 
A portrait time itself struggles to perfect.

She exists like a forgotten song trapped in the folds of memory ;aching, haunting, inevitable. 
Her presence carves itself into the soul’s fragile walls,
Leaving behind the exquisite ruin of longing.

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