ZARA M.

Dear Heart,  Sunshine I truly long for your soulful proximity. I have grown weary of remoteness, of oceans gone dry, of twilights emptied of their soul, and of sunsets that have forgotten how to glow. In your presence, colors feel more alive than ever; with you, I feel more alive than ever.  I truly believe that if I could ever convey my silences to you, you would understand them. Every silence carries a deeper meaning within itself, one that cannot be interpreted with ease.  I want you to stay with me, even if only in dreams. Give me your tears, your joys, and stay until the other world calls one of us.  At times, I consider myself truly fortunate. I was given the art of writing, of expressing and elucidating what my heart holds, and I found you to write you. I write happily; it relaxes me. It makes me feel as though you are before my eyes, and I am simply opening my heart to you.    With all my silence, ~Zara M.

We touched each other without touching. only gazed at one another, without a single stir.   It happens in life, where the communion of souls  and spiritual nearness overtake lingering presence. No longer does the language of proximity matter; what remains sacred is the silent admiration  and the gravity within the eyes.  When unspoken words take the shape of language,  sunrises linger within the eyes,  and the silent understanding awakens, they leave behind unforgettable memories.    Our silences found their voices before words had taken space;  an exchange of silent dialogues,  entire conversations carried through the eyes. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  Gentle Soul Happy to write to you again. More playfully, let me say: My Dear Cupcake,  You are well aware that writing to you is my favorite hobby, and addressing you as C upcake does not necessarily mean I am hungry; it refers to the cuteness you embody and the fondness I have for you.  Your face is as juicy and chocolatey as the fudge. Your voice is as sweet as caramel but a salted one; of course, talking to you gives me the same butterflies I get whenever I see deep cocoa hues.  The moment I see you, or even imagine a conversation with you, I become my most playful self, full of childlike wonder; toying with you brings me the most untamed joy.     I cherish these little moments I spend unfolding my heart to you. Peace arises as my words come to rest with you. Though they may never reach you, I like to believe that one day they will.  Written in sunlight instead of moonlight. Till the next letter, Bye. ~Zara M.

This summer, the months remained heavier than the heavy, warmer than the warm, and longer than the long.  I have witnessed long winter nights with dark skies, lunar light, and my solitude. But the summers then were lighter than the light with heaven's expanse, sunset's palette, and cosmic rivers; all that burdens my soul now. Time seems to be longer and darker, with each renewal of hope, I rebuild myself before I am torn once more.  Though the summer guests bloom as before and orchestrate the mornings, they no longer favour me. The solitude once confined to winter nights has taken over my summers. I started to believe that inner seasons are liable to create our outer seasons. ~Zara M.

When the world goes odd and fruits go sour,  Carry a cup of coffee and a well-loved book to make a moment of ours. The wide, dark night filled with stars  Shall remind you of all we gave from our hearts.  The moonlight spilling silver all across the path  Shall awaken an echo that resonates with your scars. Do not become heavy due to the gravity of memory.  But try cherishing what we once considered reverie. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  As the night falls silent, It recalls me all: a face that blooms when it smiles, cheeks that cradle quiet sunshine, and hair that engulfs dark twilight. Watching your image come and go, tender crossings of our souls, infinite conversations that lead to perpetual peace, and yet, the dreams that never return to release. I write to you, in hours of despair, joy, solace, and  grief. Every time I am done writing to you, it is either anxiousness or tranquility, and these days, it is infinite unease that remains.  The depths of night take me further into the world where your impression resides; experiencing it at every unfolding brings disquiet to my soul.  Night leans in your favour, makes my silences choose you and draws my inner world to your presence alone. Yours, in every lifetime, ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  These days I write ceaselessly, with obsession, almost to the point of smothering the page. My words streaming from my heart, flowing endlessly; I am overwhelmed with emotions, and steeped in devotion. I am unknown what this condition is: calling it abiding tenderness for you or madness, I am unable to decide.  At the moment, writing is my escape, my refuge, where I let my heart turn into ink and find consolation. It has kept me alive through this period of crisis: mental or emotional, It no longer matters to me.   Until the next letter, ~Zara M.

I am no ordinary soul you will adore. I bring intoxication, madness, and quiet delirium.  I shall be the place where your name never fades. My soul shall continue its pilgrimage towards you. Still, it shall ask nothing of you.  I shall write to you out of obsession, Several pages at once, to the edge of reason, Yet, I shall never stand between you and your freedom. ~Zara M.

Dear Heart,  I have not admired anyone to the extent that tears fall, tenderness peaks, and radiance blooms. May this never be unknown to you; I recognize you as the one, the only one with whom I can speak of my daily rituals, golden hours, amber dawns and violet dusks, the shades of clouds, twilight hues, sunflowers, slow afternoons of summer, and the falling leaves.  I find no other who can bear my unburdening soul or the spilling of my heart over things that seem insignificant to the world but are of colossal significance to me. I can tell no one how flowerets talk to me, smile at me, and fill my silences with their tenderness. This has remained beyond your knowing: the sacredness I find in your companionship, the solace your aura brings me, and the quiet belonging I have always found with you. With quiet devotion, ~Zara M.