GELLY

Every sketch of mine lately share something similar

The mole on your upper lip

I feel i was made to infatuate about you

they might look at our face and see a woman

But when I see, I feel like I see hope, I see love

I see a light, I see calm, I see rest for this wicked heart of mine

I feel like It seems clear, when our shadows hugs

I feel like I am supposed to feel this way about you, 
So I feel i should thank every heartbreak and rejection forever

Only they can scrape every dignity and pride that might stop your worship
and even if i never have you, i want so much it hurts, for you
to be happy and a mole remain restless with smiles

And if joy is a well thought grateful

I feel I should pray that I see your face forever.

I feel this way because 

I never feel like I belong here

All my life i feel trapped in between

Electronic screens that play my reality

My genteel, my songs and sorrows

counted blessings of frail fingers

regarding that worn basket of lonely egg

Do I break all that I have and have believe in 
If,

I believe in the hands that clutches

The eyes in awe and the lips that part awaiting a kiss

I believe in the smile that forgives, the heart that thaws

And the hands that cherishes
are they within obvious frowns?, God wicked aloofness?
or in strange languages, taboos, incest or in crimes?

Are they in walk bys and what ifs?
What if, they are -

Fecund promising frivolities passes 
through the amour of safe -
keeping into the vulnerable mesh where the happiness 
hides, where all that scares is the smirk of the after thought
what then do i feel?

by 

Victor Samuel