Slowly fill the room
Those gently pouring sounds
That seed little joys.
My silence grows
In white sheets,
A self restraint
Internal silence
Like a not so ripe fruit.
Be it a futile dream
I do dream of love
As a part time job,
Maybe, escaping
A dialectical overdose.
But I know of the day,
So I wait.
My sense of duty
Twirling in a sufi dance.
The unrest
is only a protection.
“I do dream of love
As a part time job, ”
my favorite quote today. thanks.
you are welcome!
I just thought I was getting a bit too serious in my lamentations(thing that does not suit the reality) so I stopped myself right there!
And the term “part time” fits the nature of the feeling too well.
it is ok. i allow myself to play my “blues” song for a while.
I always feel part-time love, so this hit the spot.
Because there`s only one sort of full time love, so to say, and that does not come from men.
But it requires humbleness which is a rare quality nowadays.
I hope I get it one day…
Meanwhile I eat desserts.