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The Sun's Lonely.


The sun’s lonely.


Windows open to a warm morning, while old French songs played on the radio. She undoes her dark brown, yet luminous under the sun, hair. The dawn’s skies glowed just enough for her to look straight at the source with coal black eyes, now fueled up like diamonds. In minutes or seconds maybe, the sky would be on fire.

More people find solace in the epiphany night brings with, they fight the morning shine and fear the realities of the day. Oh, but who doesn’t love a little escape? Who would want to live in the harshness of today when tonight dwells you into a world of your own?

And she agrees. You do run the kingdom in your dreams, but those dreams are merely yours. It sure is your world but certainly not ‘the world.’ Taking over that urges for the day’s rush, when cheeks stain red for the golden games.

So, she locks her waves and hides the insane, as she sets off to spend another day on Rome. She chants her words, the mightiest of weapons, till her lips swell to a darker pink. And covers her knuckles bruised from fights with lacy gloves bejeweled with ambers.

She appears to be everything summers are made of; Loudest laughs, salty hair, long drives and rollercoaster rides. Just falling in and out of love every day. They say eyes never lie, look into hers. Those long drives? She spends them on your shoulders to catch little breaths of peace. And never has she taken a rollercoaster ride. Risks just seem too risky, for she spent long summer days on Rome but the burning would only take a wrathful day. And the lovers, they die but rulers, they reign. So, when faced with the choices of life, love or power or fear, she seizes to love and controls her fears and simply holds the power. All she’s ever held.

Lion-hearted girls but play alone. The legs do hold the throne up but only authority claims it. She’s hosted by yellow daffodils on some days, others she sings with blackbirds and robins. But when she returns, to her rusty radio and now salted hair, to bare her bruises to the solace of dusk, she returns alone.


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by Shivika, @sh1v1ka on instagram.

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