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1 " some winterswill never meltsome summerswill never freezeand some things will only... live in poems. "
― Sanober Khan , Turquoise Silence
2 " ...so i will greet youin a wayall loved thingsare meant to be greetedwith a tear in my heartand a poem in my eye. "
3 " there are some poemsthat we leave behindsome that leave us behindwhile some just livesilentlyin the heartcrumble, sometimesdwindledisappeardieand are rebornwhen you smile again. "
4 " it was the kind of moonthat I would want to send back to my ancestorsand gift to my descendantsso they know that I too,have been bruised...by beauty. "
5 " because some thingssometimesaren't ours to hold,but just beautiful to listen to. "
6 " i'm glad to be alive in a world wherehis gently awakening eyesnourish the morning sun. "
7 " and the afterglow...of your gaze...is the onlysweater that I need. "
8 " there is some achingthat will only heal...in the mosque of sleep. "
9 " i want to stay curled and cosiedand chocolated....foreverin my mother’s arms. "
10 " leave me some musicthat’s chocolate for the heart. "
11 " I wish to stay drenchedforeverin those rain-blue eyesin those...soul-reaching crystalsnot moving a musclenor breathingjustsavoringthis turquoise acheagainst my heart. "
12 " Every heart must have its privatebestseller book. "
13 " this heart yearns...for the salt of unsmelt airunswept thunderstorms...unknown adventures. "
14 " I am filled time and againwith a heart-aching wonder when I thinkof the fireand frost of memoriesof the everlastingnessof lovethe solace of familyand the power of prayer. "
15 " we always knewthat good times camewith termination contractseven if we weren't quite readyto sign it. "
16 " may my touchalways...be tenderas i would strokemother's cheekswhen she cried. "
17 " i am infinitely yearningbrimmingand overflowingin wordsi discoverit’s another wayfor meto be in tears. "
18 " how can i everbreathe normally againafter having been cradledby the kind of sorrowso silent, that it nourishesafter having been sweptby the kind of joyso absolute, that it wounds. "
19 " how these words, wait to diein the arms of all the poetry..yet to be written. "
20 " give mea pillow of strongever-dependable shouldersthat i can bury my head in. "