my love,
    my light
look at you
           those eyes of purity
                                 and trust
         that wrap around my mind like a blanket
oh, to feel your hands
              interlocked with mine
  
my dearest, my dearest, my dearest

my love

I’ve come to think about it; at times it may seem blatant—
why it’s a fact, but indeed we were all children once...
Children: then the innocent; but with time flew the pleasant
gems of the past. I could no longer recall when ‘twas.

Yet somehow the distinction presents itself quite clearly.
All are born without prejudices; they grow to learn
them their own. If anything, sentiments are born merely
from those around us, ‘til one day they can’t be unearned.

Thus I say, when men are born they are without character:
a racist man is not born but is made; likewise, a gentleman
is forged from the furnaces of virtue and integrity. Might there
be some way we can just try—to be children again?

We were all children once… it seems we forget this;
whence comes our innocence, is but a bygone fantasy.

andrew.
i fall to my knees at his feet with a heavy breath.
i almost feel unworthy.
this person, this man-
he's perfection in flesh and blood.
i feel blessed.
this angel, a saint with flaws, perfect flaws.
i nearly worship him.
godlike, i search his face for signs of light, anything celestial or close to it.
i find them faintly, small, unnoticeable to anyone who's wronged him.
he is perfect, and somehow, he is mine.

She neither got white love,
nor got black hate;
there, she decided to be pure
in those few eyes
in which she looked pure
and got all the white love from!

-Thanakarshnni

Hold my hand, I'll walk you through the rainbow.
Up and above the blue the sky.
We'll ride on shooting stars, in circles around the moon.
Eat cotton candy made with the yummiest of the clouds.
We'll dance all night, jump along Venus, Jupiter and Pluto.
Sing along playing the strings of the sun rays.
I'll put you to sleep at the end of the rainbow.
And take you back home with the morning rain drops.

She pressed her palms together
and prayed to be desired with purity,
free from lust and deceit.
“What waits for me behind the horizon line?”