the shore is my loom
weaving to the infinite doom
for them to be gradually drawn
repeating the unknown
rising and diving between layers of lands
precious pearls fall from the folds of hands
crawling back hoping to be a part of the legend
..and my carpet is that legend
for all the harem
with eyes got used to departure
with feet slipping into sand fracture
with all these smells
touching me with spells
with all these multiple vivid lives that called memories
based on the hypocrite moon
2 comments:
Ok! to me, this is one big work of art! and its soo imaginatively portrayed aswell!
"the shore is my loom
weaving to the infinite doom"
I can't get over these two lines :D
beautiful wallah, and it does resemble the texture in the photo!
"rising and diving between layers of lands"
nice :D also seen in the photo's geology xD
"crawling back hoping to be a part of the legend"
guess you really wanna go back...
lots of personal level mysteriousness in here, i cant really determine the carpet's role... possibly deema wants to be a ground for all women to stand on? a desire to lead..
interesting :)
raven:
thank you, i feel overrated
i actually wrote the poem after taking this photo..
not me who wants to get back
i'm not playing the pearl :)
i'm playing the weaver of the legend
the pearl is crawling back to me wants to be a part of what i do ..
what i do as a weaver is going back and forth, away and to the women on the shore
something between women and doom
something between known and unknown
something between prescious and cheep..
:)
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