I battled a thousand storms and survived a hundred cuts, but there is something about that one smile which destroys the warfield and embraces my lips. Something that makes me feel warm.
I painted a thousand nights and drew a hundred moons, but there is something in the way how she walks by and all the colours merge into a single shade and let the stars make their patterns. Something that makes me feel light.
When I stitch my spurting wounds and reverberate my hundred cries, she rests her hands over mine, and there is something in her spiritual touch which rebirths invisible strands and sings scars to slumber. Something that makes me feel alive.
And when her deep-set blue eyes glance my nuances over time, there is something which makes the moment paraylsed and the heartbeats refurbished. Something which aligns the sunflowers towards the sun fervently. Something that makes me feel fulfilled.
~ S r i K r i s h n a P S | July 12, 2020 _____________________________________________
'Somethings' can be described so much that they go indescribable. Paradox? Cliché?