Parallelisms 1

أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 

 

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that flower, it grows, both the vine it sits on, and the crown of the rose, though her thorns sometimes cut and take their blood, her door has opened, and the view is one always worth it to behold. she wants to wrap me up within her petals, until all i can see or smell is her fragrance, whether applied or from within her wafting; once i called her tigress, alas i wish for her claws in this second, especially in her absence. may my Rabb always aid her growth, nourished by this ocean, free of salt or detriment, so that one Day it comes to pass, that i become as deep as she is gorgeous, ameen.

 

 

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imagine if i was, a drop of sweat, rolling slowly down your chest, whether clothed or clothless, i think in such a moment, would i be a human most in heaven. i could not explain my fascination with the bosom, whether due to shape or essence of a sanctuary i've long been chasing, maybe both, but it simply is one part of the greater whole, a physical portion of the Sky as if it were one big puzzle. smiles and safety, contentment within the present, mindfulness i suppose as one likes to remind of - so long as He lets these remain part of your countenance, i find my breath easier to breathe in.