http://slow.writerscafe.org/SAHAR The original writings of author Alicante lullaby en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776141350 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I told Kaifi oncethat i want to sleep with someone like beautiful,broken englishthat our parsi nanny would speak,lips kissing eachother passionately into gibberishor someone of a male seahorse typewho could understand the phenomena of giving birthwho would be fertile enough to create t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/970646/ it is contagious.these days you can get faith from anywhere,even w****s sell itpeople see angels during sexual asphyxia,really(a friend of my didand now she is a five times praying devout muslim)even those crappy,ill written characters in supernatural advocate believing...I agree,.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/967228/ Remember once you told meim the one for you,Guess what darling,you were righti'm born to satisfy your egoAnd you my dear are such an artist,you have expertised the art of making me feel tiny http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/954607/ Eyes are such a give away,You should have had two black buttons stitched at their placeWhen we see those babies in maternity wardwho are eyeless due to some congenital anomaly(i cant help feeling their women would be so lucky if they get any)Eyes are such a give away in bed&nbs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/953045/ Last year,when Muree wore snowi sauteed the storyteller in me for you,Jannawe ate it over  candlelit dinners where you promised to fix me up.This year,I bought everything made up of cold rationalismfrom those cheap Jhaal sales.You were right when you saidgirls like me are.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/952641/ a two minutes nonsense.... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/768569/ Momma was self sacrificial and bitterlike most  self-sacrificial people are,the ones you read about in booksA true Gandhist,she lived on some sort of a curb diet planleft best portions of handiya for papa and Alikept to her diet plans and ate only me,for lunch,for breakfast,for dinn.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/768210/ soul is a sure for ugly girlsand how i used to pacify myself with''they pretend not to desire you becoz you are expensive,as in out of reach''atleast this what mum told me(they always do to the brownest girls in my family)and i learnt to confuse unattractive with ''middle .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/766878/ He wants to buy me chocolates,those from belgium which just sort of melt in your mouthand an engagement ring(may be a year or so later)one with a huge Amethyst,my birth stoneand a car on lease(just imagine me with my very own car) he wants to get me all of thisand me,i keep on han.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/766861/ Gymkhana and Clara both very white,chalk white.Her eyes mesmerise me,there is something fishy about them,fish like-huge and shallow and dilated...one just cant see ''into her'' through them...pretty much like those PC pools you bathed in with her after we had a semi-break up and you told m.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/765370/ She enrages you with her oval mouthand that thing between her thighsyou suddenly grow sick of the yellowed walls,of the yellowed cover of canto-general de chile,of your yellowed existence ,of your yellowed political socialistic viewsand of those yellow haired braless blondiesthere.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/754048/ Muharram in lahore would be red this yearred like the pantaloons of those mob hystericswho set the wapda offices ablaze(and we in our khaki salwars gathered around the muddy laketo see what they called ''killing the rich''what a respite from aweful summer  boredomhow we all kids lov.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/753490/ somehow we were teaching ourselvesto be schizophrenicsi sort of parsed myself into many ''me s''Sahar infront of family boysnever allowed herself to wear ankletsrespectable women dont wear themthen there was this meinfront of college boyshow we laughed at most vulgar jokesthen me i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/750321/ As if in a deja vui have come back to youwhen the dark eyed women  told meYou are a recurring phenomenaand i'm unclean...i have nothing to offerexcept for my right to think and speak I cuckolded you last yearsorry for that,lets shake hands,make me feel a little less dead... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/750315/ i'm not into writing these days... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/745881/  I'm getting bitter.He is going to spit me out...  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/743629/ for Mommi. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/733970/ My hands reeked of the love that i have been making to myself...my fingers are self annhilatory ,they somehow know how to stew me in my body's own currents...i'm ill at heart and i want all things to be like those Fauvism styled paintings...stark and strong coloured how they want to impo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/721844/ i'm rusty http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/719246/ whenwill I die next time http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/715670/ as of recently,i'm just trying hard to write... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/715650/ Your hands hold mine as if in a nooseknowing perhaps that i'm not happybut i'll never be able to extricate myself from youmay be i'm not even willing toso everynightI bury my head in pillowsmy fingers claw at sheetsour feet keep touchingI only write in morningswhen my hai.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/707365/ I'm getting the wallsin my room painted to a blunt redthe exact same shade Kurt Cobain wrote his suicide note in http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/706347/ the title is a publicity stunt... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/705750/ We thought it was funnywell she did,Madiha has a holy name and a holy skin too,dewy like those stones from Makkah which they say weep when are brought out of the cave.We thought it was funny atleast she didhow we have finally managed to  squeeze  ourselves into 21st centuary.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/705151/ I'm determined to do my acupuncturehere in your bedits too dark we are too nakeden cauling every bit of my realitydesperate to  revert backto the girl I (you) lovedwith a heart and body,still unscathed(you are my first) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/704088/ you loved to watch stars from herefrom this high they burn a cleft in your chestlike tiny living thingsthe bees,Sylvia,the inside of the bee houseand the bee languagelike a suddenly conceived suicide notionthey are everywhere,polar lights,your ovensi get the vibei get the silenc.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/703163/ there isn't enough God to drown in,no god left in sinkwhere our hands overlap  comparing the nailpaintsNattu is totally nihilisticthe prettiest thing i have found so far in my new surroundings we have many things in commonlike we can't writelike we can sit for hours&nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/703113/ we used to make love in his daughter's bedhe had a kinda gifthe knew how to make one see  loveliness in even the ugliest of thingsthe room use to drown in a brooding sort oforange on sunsetsthose days orange didn't sadden  me.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/696598/ As a freshman smoking potwhen even your tears are hundred percent non-alcoholicOr first time in that community bathwith three other girls,the uncensored touching and giggling Or when your roommateteaches you how to apply that comon hostel vibratorwhich almost.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/696277/ Emily is baking a cakeand seems like she has to sew toothe needles with their sharp silvery tonguesare out there flirting with a thimble(Mr.Thimble must be having a hard time deciding)Outside the rauchy March airseeks liberties from the magnolia leaves  and coyly they smile i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/695595/ im a bit out of it... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/695395/ Its pretty average to tag yourselfas another depressed teenagerwith a body and mind forever in protestbut you wont listenbecause you dont want toand meanwhile a sweltering desire to burneverything sane breeds in your very coredying to express itselfhere they say that everything happe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/695023/ Im a rather sick beneficiary of every emotional breakdown i have had,sex suddenly gets better. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/694119/ When he asked her'Are you happy?'she simply replied with a'Ssshhh!darling I never ask myself this question'. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/694113/ funny... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/692208/ for a friend. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/692197/ Momma someone fairer than youand even coldermust have made a voodoo doll of meduring that first sallow bloom in our summer gardenwhen all the kids in the house got thinerwearing tight little knots in their belliesO,how you wept mommaand how our tiny nanny had her eyes.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/685372/ Mother paincome teach meunravel,unbraid these quilted mysteries,Tell me has my heart gone restiveor is it me-a restive heart Original(Aay dard batakuch tou hii batakub sy yeh moama hal naa hoahum mein hai dil e baytaab nihanya aap dil e baytaab hain hum) http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/684390/ f**k you,title http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/682599/ this wont be prettyIts no Abelard's letter to HeloiseIf you are finding words for  your wedding vows,go somewhere elseIf its your daughter christening or graduationand you dont know what to say,this is no place to beIf you read poetry for some weird sort of mental solace,dont read.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/681794/ Night is Yvette's dressunstitchedyour legs can hug their barenesspeeking out of the low cutsStars with their silver smiles annihilate meand frost thickens on every paneA blurry white taste Its the third night,MorpheusI have saved myself,saved my eyes from your scrutiny. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/681648/ blah blah blah http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/681038/ We are the same,the myth has itSame twin dark eyessoul escaping them in cerulean ripples.Same highlights to emphasize our hair,same rogue tingue of deep red melancholyto accentuate our features.We are the same,Daphnethe myth has it.Then he comesYou turn to tree,the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/680911/ My new roommate used to cryincessantly and there was something utterlyunpleasant about the roomSome huge dingy eye,something you can't put your finger on. it would cast a gloom over my soulthe moment i  entered my dorm cellso i started spending most of my time .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/680876/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/679553/ trash http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/678988/ discussing poetry on a first date. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/678425/ It wasn't love or love-not,I always knew I couldn't love a man once i have slept with him,I think,what really pissed me off was that you had  ruined my favourite sheets,The ones that daddy brought from Germany. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/678408/ I told him I find it ridiculouswhen people kill themselvesbecause they are sad.I'm more inclined to do sowhen i'm happiest,in that perfect of perfectest momentswhen you suddenly realisethat stars are never going to shinebrighter than they are shining now,grass will neve.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/SAHAR/678050/