Renaissance
Mansuor Qurbanali It was not the heart that you carved from marble but the hands that remained tender after caressing stone that night, I watched how the body swallows moonlight: it was the dew in your eyes the way it glistened like a thousand splendid stars floating upon puddles This body that was once lost belongs to me now rest your aching hands on my warm skin let them ask of how love has made the body soft and I will tell them of how my breath trickling down your spine is how we’ll turn our body into music
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