When I write, I open the doors of my fragile fortress,
My words, transparent realms of hope and sorrow.
With every line, my unseen heart breaks free,
Vulnerable, brave, in its raw honesty.
My writings are like a castle of glass,
Shattered into pieces by a breath of fear.
Will you glimpse the beauty, or shatter it, it seems?
About the Creator
Yasemin Yiğit Kuru
an engineer who loves reading and writing
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His Haibun
He does not like poetry; I write it anyway and do not tell him. It's true his face is not a poet's face. It is round and open, youthful; too apt to be compared to the sun. His nose is neat. It is impossible to imagine him smoking a cigarette, terse, full of cheekbones and tension. His warmth burns my fingertips. I am here for his fascinating body, the haphazard freckles I touch one by one; he is here for my eyes, just my eyes. A sunbeam sneaks through the curtains and pierces us both, sizzling the spices of his skin. I inhale and wrap myself in him. He kisses my eyes.
By TheSpinstress5 days ago in Poets
Comments (1)
Truly captivating words .I loved it.