Behold

Been to the mountains of Everest,

and grasses evergreen..

My mother’s wrinkled hands,

the prettiest sight

I’ve ever seen..

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Elastic hearts

They walk around the streets,

Wearing perfume on their sleeves..

Looking to share everything but trust,

Laughing for hours but crying first..

Holding hands but shadows apart,

With bodies of stone and elastic hearts..

©Hira Chaudhry

© Image courtesy: Fine art America

Paint..

The color of your soul, is precisely what my darkness seeks..

The compelling strokes of your brush, creating wild ocean peaks..

These cravings that evoke me, more than I’d like to confess..

The touch of your fingertips, for my body is your canvas..