The heart of a woman
E premtja është e poezisë! Ndaj në Tiranapost prezantojmë blogun më të ri "Romancë në Trup" ku çdo javë, Klara Koli, një vajzë e re, por e talentuar, do postojë krijimet e saj
2020-02-21 18:27:00
Tiranapost
By Clara Koli / A heart is contraction and release from any irresistible emotional pressure.
Everything she feels… and sometimes feels so much like carving a basoreliev on its soft surface.
The heart of a woman who does not guard. It is something extremely extraneous. Something completely inadequate from her four bedrooms, something irreversible. A woman's heart resides in the sky, and her footsteps are always in the trunks of intoxicating floral scents and in the shelves of long lasting woody scents. The heart of a woman sparkles with love, sparkles with sacrifice and patience. It preserves everything that will not escape their hands and eyes.
All kinds of love in all its seasons. The 101 words she would like to hear again, her wishes, her dreams, all sorts of dearest people in all seasons of memory and her poetic loneliness. A woman's heart is a hot tempest between heaven and earth, something without which humanity would not be able to travel to sublime love. But a woman's heart trembles with sonnets, strings, passion, her unmistakable intuition, her sensual instincts, songs of longing and love. The heart of a woman is the cult of unconditional love for her creature, it is a selfless heart, it is something completely human… something that has no end.
A woman's heart is sadly forgetful of all her many unhappy moments from which she tries to steal happiness. Something ambitious, unlucky enough to be fulfilled and free. A woman's heart wants certainty to make peace, but even if there is no certainty she will squeeze everything I can give her some. She fantasizes everything she reads. And everything she dreams about gets her revenge for her own benefit and that of everyone else. It is a slender diamond filled with sensual strands, smelling, with charm and wit.
In a woman's heart is stored every detail that makes her feel good, every spiritual pleasure, every worry of her. Every moment that becomes eternal and a spiritual mission. A woman's heart is an eternity of lamentations, sighs of longing and empathy. The first birds of spring remind her of escape among other paths and naturally condemn herself to abandonment. It preserves different fragrances, people's faces, fine details, hostages ... whatever they may be, the struggle, something left half-hearted, hugs, everything read, waiting. The heart of a woman wants attention, truth, caresses delicacy, beauty, the unknown, the pure spirit.
A woman's heart is the strongest thing I know. It is white as a healing ointment. Balsam for everyone's soul. It is something short-lived to inconceivable. She is beautiful for her honor, her sincere sedra, for her infatuation and her forgiveness.
A woman's heart holds another heart within her. Saves a man from the beginning in his infinity. Yes. It preserves infinity, preserves a family, preserves treasures. It stores everything since it starts beating ...!
The heart of a woman belongs to none other than herself because no one except she can withstand infinity.
