Frozen flames hide between the pages of every forgotten memory,
I leaf through them like a treasure seeker through silent sands,
censoring events of the past like falling stars,
I dive deep into the painting on the wall, a portal to another world,
each blink feels like an eternal echo of unwritten love,
yet on that mysterious night, I found a secret page,
where my heart beat in double rhythm, a dance of stars,
the roof opened for the moon to pour its silver into my soul,
a memory wove itself from the light when I held your hand with longing,
recoloring our years, a fresco of devoted and pure love,
at the heart of all things, I rediscovered that forgotten feeling,
the canvas opens like a secret universe, a chapter of solid gold,
the beautiful canvas, bound by the threads of time, shines eternally,
the flames touch every wall, marking our passage together,
in perfect harmony, we are two intertwining souls,
laminating our love in eternity, a testament of united souls.
Happiness is scattering herbs of kindness,
watering weathered willows in the wilderness.
Happiness is following lavender streaks of twilight~
gliding across cerulean skies, so bright.
Happiness, a synonymous noun for my precious son,
his lyrical laughter, mirrors the rose moon and sun.
Happiness is wildflower wishes that free flow~
woven with sunflower syllables, amidst inked woe.
Happiness is the dahlia sanctuary of my beloved’s heartbeat,
as home is a frangipani feeling in his poetic retreat.
Happiness is reminiscing magic within violet vapors,
recoloring mauve meadows on watercolor wallpapers.
Happiness is walking away from deceptive witches,
alone, wearing cashmere cardigans with no lethal stitches.
Happiness is indulging in the chocolate flavor, so sweet,
when my cousin bakes hearty muffins, together we eat.
Happiness soars from magnetic melodies of an electric guitar,
harmonizing diamond serenades of my twin-star.
Happiness is an endless emotion of peaceful purification,
when soul feels warmth through internal perfection.
I learned to appreciate the quality time of a bad situation
We should have left the earth the way God created it
Recoloring the world, why shelter from it?
Like the junk artist beauty is what you make it.
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