viernes, 23 de enero de 2015

The Joy that wounds

 The minute i heard my first love story,  i started looking for you not knowing how blind that was.


Lovers don´t finally meet somewhere,
they´re in each other all along.


                   When you do things from your soul,  you feel a river moving in you,  a joy...

I want to see you.
Know your voice.
Recognise you when you first come ´round the corner.

Sense your scent when i come into a room you´ve just left.

Know the lift of you heel,
the glide of your foot.

Become familiar with the way you purse your lips
then let them part,
just the slightest bit
when i lean in your space and kiss you.

I want to know the joy of how you whisper "more"...


                                                                      -Rumi

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