A memory- A story


A memory, a story.
In the stillness of the night,
you held me, so tightly.
You were my 2 am lover and my midnight dancer.
Your kiss was the sweetest breathe given to me.
You told me often.
You are my everything and you make me feel alive and needed.
I knew our love was just like the snow flakes floating into the Winter wind.
We were dreamers, wishing for a miracle.
Tonight I know silence and memory.
I whispered to the falling snow, outside my window.
You bewitched my heart dear love.
I know now. You were my everything.
                      A memory
Lovely, perfect and wonderful.
Soft, tender and perfect.
Fearless, desperate and so sweet.
We stole kisses, we stole our kindness.

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Woman Lying on Rock


(Now nothing remains the same)

Your name came to me late in the midnight hour, brought back the canvas of your perfect body, your kind smile and your beautiful face. Your name, Fabiola.
Made me wish and want for the things, I could not have.

I taught you how to drive on the California highway one in the Winter of 1992 and I remember you holding my hand tightly. Your eyes filled with excitement and so content with the feel of the car and the road. You knew I loved you from the first time I saw you. I would create places and time for us to talk. You told me often, you don’t want me. I’m damaged and afraid, I’m waiting for something gone and cannot love.

Love find places in secret valleys and hidden places. Locked doors open for a secret seconds. We went to Big Sur…

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“Tears are not the bad part” – Nayana Nair

it rains in my heart


The grass was not green,
the sky was not blue,
and the weather
far from perfect.
But wherever in life I’ve been,
to whomever I was true,
I am reminded of all of it
so I sat and wept.
And tears are not the bad part,
they will dry and be gone.
It’s the days when I can’t cry,
that I doubt, maybe my heart
has turned to stone,
with pain forever inside.

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Jotting you in July


It feels impossible to write about you now,

as you aren’t the same person my pen knew about.

It now jumps to the conclusions more,

it doesn’t bother me if my nights are longer than before.

I don’t hide now stories of you in my dairy,

as I know the pretending was real.

The rain pour doesn’t now have your voice,

it is all normal, your existence and your going.

-Riya Shah

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To be my lover


I won’t apologise for my wildness to you,

as I want you to admire my rawness as a sign of beauty too.

To see my forest greenery as you glimpse my soul.

I want you to understand there exists wildness

inside me, that can be peaceful and friendly,

but arousing the wolf can still make you believe

doing awry could be devastating.

I want you to see me as I am,

not a different human being knowing how to pretend.

Pretend to be a flower in the yard of some city house,

I am happy being a wildflower held in nature hand.

To be my lover you have to accept, in me, there is natures essence.

-Riya Shah

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Secret Oatmeal, Hmm

Mws R Writings

The Secret Oatmeal Trick For a Flat Belly (msn.com)

a plate of food on a table: oatmeal

Lisa Young, PhD, RDN, and the author of Finally Full, Finally Slim, agrees that oatmeal is a “great breakfast” to have for a flat belly, but “it’s super easy to overdo it and eat too much and add too many toppings.”


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