欧宝娱乐

“Stories never told,
disappeared in the dawn mist
and sunset blaze.
Like a movie kiss,
not real,
but still overwhelms and entices lustfulness,
turns me into pleasure
and a connoisseur of love.

Flying to the heavens above
followed by the yearning hope
that you will always be close to me,
that you will not disperse when
we revel in鈥� one another.

Secrets to be kept in one of these terracotta walls
that fade away through the dusk,
feeling the scented candles of musk,
just you and I,
two rebels of love,
that challenge the logic, the meaning, 鈥媋nd sense.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Baghdad Nights

“Like a child
licking his lower lip
while looking through the window
of a candy shop,
eye-eating the sugar glazed apples
that are shining in all shades of red.
That is how you look at me.
With all the temptation
of a child,
wanting to break the glass
and indulge in something he cannot have.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Moments of Eros: Poetry as the Language of Desire

“Nowhere to be touched
or explored,
not here and not in distance.
It鈥檚 just a tingle that overflows my brightest dreams.
Am I wise or simple-minded to believe
that non鈥揺xistent evidence
is not an evidence of non鈥揺xistence?”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Cacophony of My Soul: When Love Becomes Poetry

“Our love is like the moon,
changeable through all the phases
of complete disappearance to full existence.
It raises the sea up to the sky
and makes the cool wind ripple its surface.
Blindly sparkling it doesn鈥檛 let us see.
I know I鈥檓 not the only one to love you,
but your heart inquired only of me.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Baghdad Nights

“Our hearts created for longing,
for loving and coveting
from afar.
We can鈥檛 exist together,
can鈥檛 breathe if separated,
can鈥檛 sleep if not entwined.
As the birth of a child鈥�
Love is forever, but it always leaves a scar.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Cacophony of My Soul: When Love Becomes Poetry

“How desolate our hearts become
when we don't have anything
to shed tears for.
Love never dies.
Not even when it's gone,
for lost love is still love.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Cacophony of My Soul: When Love Becomes Poetry

“It is more difficult for you to pretend having feelings when you don鈥檛,
than it is to me to pretend I don鈥檛 have any when I do.
That is why I鈥檇 rather sleep.
Not having to think.
Just to feel.
In the sea of illusions,
every touch of yours
belongs to me.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Moments of Eros: Poetry as the Language of Desire

“Hug me, though I know it is fake.
In cold winter nights
even a snake feels warm,
even lies sound as
dreams fulfilled and
love reciprocated.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Cacophony of My Soul: When Love Becomes Poetry

“Drop by a drop of rain will bring a deluge,
unless the dry summer sky
is suppressing the clouds.
But love鈥�
If given little by little,
nobody can feed off its crumbs.
Only a woman who loves thinks a little is enough,
for the one who is precious to her heart,
her eyes cannot see.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Cacophony of My Soul: When Love Becomes Poetry

“Eager to please I submit to your moulds,
your forms, dimensions,
turned into a monolithic figure
I silence my objections
because love is the ending goal.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Cacophony of My Soul: When Love Becomes Poetry

“I can鈥檛 tell if the flame
inside me
is a sin or a virtue.
Am I closer to holy
for ignoring and abandoning
the lustful desires of my body?
Or am I stepping
into the flames of the eternal fire
for not indulging,
for not satisfying,
for not wanting
all joys of the earthly pleasures?”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Cacophony of My Soul: When Love Becomes Poetry

“Our goodnight spooning
became goodbye turning away
from one another,
the farther we could,
to the edges of the same bed.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Cacophony of My Soul: When Love Becomes Poetry

“Darling,
I鈥檓 walking around our places
without you.
Thinking of the last time
we talked, we laughed,
kissed, and made love.
I couldn鈥檛 remember.
Not one moment.
Not one feeling.
Just a faded canvas left
in front of me.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Baghdad Nights

“Touch me with your bestial pupils,
keep me in a floating air between us,
clasp my shuddering thoughts
below the moonlight
captured in a candle jar.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Moments of Eros: Poetry as the Language of Desire

“My eyes, on occasions,
would ablaze with excitement,
hoping for the new love to let my sparkle free.
It is my heart that needs a lot of persuasions
because its pain will hurt no one but me 鈥�”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Cacophony of My Soul: When Love Becomes Poetry

“I'm disappearing in the nightfall,
becoming one with the rocks I鈥檓 sitting on鈥�
Sinking in my own reminiscence of your smile,
your lips and your smell鈥�
Not missing you, not longing for you,
but grieving for the dreams that held the image of
the darkest brown eyes.
Perhaps I was your one as you called me鈥�
It is said a man can be happy
with any woman
but the one he truly loves.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Baghdad Nights

“Old wounds frighten me more
than those that are
ahead of me.
I am afraid that the stitches
might bleed again.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Cacophony of My Soul: When Love Becomes Poetry

“Hold me as if I were the most fragile
object that a touch of a feather
could break.
Dance with me with the same animal craving,
with the same desire
you would make love to me.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Moments of Eros: Poetry as the Language of Desire

“Like the tigress
watching her playing cub
while napping,
covered with sun rays
that are blinding her.
She opens her eyes wider
at every sound,
at every movement of
the trees, air, soil鈥�
Protective. Alert.
That is how you look at me.
Wanting to save me
from all that could harm me.
Preventing my pain by loving me”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Moments of Eros: Poetry as the Language of Desire

“Give my soul to Heaven to keep it,
while I am becoming nothing but pleasure
in your skilful hands of a sculptor.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Moments of Eros: Poetry as the Language of Desire

“The dreams are escape for
the fearful and sensitive hearts
who wanted to seize the day
and catch the butterfly
without killing it between the palms.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Cacophony of My Soul: When Love Becomes Poetry

“Everything loses
it鈥檚 splendour and light
when your lashes flop
over the dark circles
below your eyes.
Asleep. Soft.
With a scent of the
date cookies
you ate as a child.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Cacophony of My Soul: When Love Becomes Poetry

“Forgive me, you are amiable
and heavenly perfect.
It is me who carries
the old pain as if it were
a badge of honour.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Cacophony of My Soul: When Love Becomes Poetry

“I have not known who I were
until you introduced me to my heart.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Cacophony of My Soul: When Love Becomes Poetry

“May the cracks in my heart be
the place where I shall plant my tears
which would rise in blossoms.
If they hit me with stones,
I鈥檓 going to throw at them flowers.
As a sign of celebration.
The victory of reason over ego.
I鈥檝e risen above it all,
on the ashes of my old soul
that, as Phoenix, found its way
to light up the Universe.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Cacophony of My Soul: When Love Becomes Poetry

“Only the desireless can
see the world objectively,
detached from emotion,
outcome and need.
But what is the meaning of the truth
if there is no love in between?”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Cacophony of My Soul: When Love Becomes Poetry

“There are no words
that could describe
how loving of beloved feels.
Nor the joy of opening
arms into a hug.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Cacophony of My Soul: When Love Becomes Poetry

“The evaporated dream
that I would be adored
became my identity as the thorn is to rose.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Cacophony of My Soul: When Love Becomes Poetry

“Once there are no more obstacles to overcome,
no sudden closeness to achieve,
the eyes open the windows to deception and lies,
when two intimate hearts become strangers again,
that鈥檚 how the love dies.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Cacophony of My Soul: When Love Becomes Poetry

“Is it possible to silence
the mind of a lover
without losing it?
Getting desires fulfilled
might satisfy it,
taking away its peace.”
― Tatjana Ostojic, Cacophony of My Soul: When Love Becomes Poetry