The Siren's Echo

she travelled through time & space & across oceans & land to find her purpose which was always right there in front of her face & in her handsWritten by Anureet This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

I know a bank where the wild thyme blows, Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine, With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine: There sleeps Titania sometime of the night, Lull’d in these flowers with dances and delight;Written by William Shakespeare This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

When you tenderly allow me to rest safely with you, I will devote myself to you with such a force, the tides will bend, the sun will cower behind my moon, & the stars will move to rearrange themselves to softly illuminate the path directly to me, to these arms that widen, solely to make you a home therein.Written by https://www.threads.com/@lunaoftheinkblooded This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

our breath slows to the rhythm of the crickets lying back on the damp grass the cosmos pinned up above us like a vast tapestry longing to be deciphered, interpreted. i point to the sky tracking the slow ancient geometry translating this sacred language of the planets. call me your cosmic teacher? I catch you staring at me, your eyes catching the reflection of a thousand distant suns in these golden eyes. staring back, I plunge deep into the depths of blue icy water in yours my brain is melting under your words falling asleep under the stars. signals are sent but within, you hold more life and more life and more life… a universe expanding behind your ribcage. this degree of intensity, sustained and wild, pulsates between us in the celestially kissed dark. just being alive next to you is ten shades of surreal but, somehow, makes sense when the sky is this clear, and you are this close. i look away from the constellations, realizing the greatest mystery isn't the one written in light years. it’s your brain and the fullness of you. which I deeply intend to discover and experience, in all directions and in all ways. let us drift off together under this blanket made of stars.Written by https://www.threads.com/@audreylorea This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

"Reflections"~ Rain falls freely, asking nothing in return. Yet every thirsty field, waits for its turn. Rivers keep moving, through every flood and bend. Teaching us that changes, are not the end. The oceans and seas, hold stories in each wave. Some carried gently, others they cannot save. Lakes and ponds lie still, earth reflects the sky. Giving life to all who gather, never asking why. And when our tears fall, they are water too. Reminding us that healing, begins when we let it flow.Written by https://www.threads.com/@_shona_alysa_ This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

There are days when the world arrives wrapped in fog. When every step feels uncertain, every horizon blurred, every answer just beyond reach. And then there is him. Not as a shield standing between me and the storm, but as the quiet strength that teaches me not to fear it. The voice that finds me when I lose my way. The certainty that remains when everything else is shifting beneath my feet. He does not carry me. He reminds me that I can keep walking. And perhaps that is the rarest kind of love of all. A love that becomes your courage. A love that sounds less like a promise and more like an oath whenever it says "I love you". My steady hand. My anchor. My safe harbor Written by https://www.threads.com/@your.daddy.kisser This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

There among the fragments, where old sorrows gathered dust, she traced the cracks with gentle fingers and discovered they still glowed with warmth. He was not a castle standing proud, but a kingdom weathered by storms; and in the quiet chambers of his soul, she found devotion hidden like gold. Each kiss became a lantern, each embrace a bridge rebuilt, until the broken walls between them gave way to moonlit gardens. And when he held her close, heart against heart beneath the stars, she knew some treasures are not found, they are uncovered, loved, and restored.Written by https://www.threads.com/@joni.ta125 This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

The reverence of your name. I let the vowels run down my tongue, The voice, vibrating chords Giving away the angst of my heart. Your name, a whisper between my lips Secret evocation I wish I could perform: Materialise you here, with me Eyes locked in recognition, A vibrant meeting A memory brought forward by us both. One day you will lie on my chest And I will show you how the universe was made By fire and thunder. Desire and benediction.Written by https://www.threads.com/@aurorablackpelt This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

Most powerful force in the universe The purest of pure white light Opposes the deepest fears Unlocks the mind of sight Conquering all realms of darkness Speaks in tongues of unity The winding road of righteousness The force that sets you free Unconditional in its greatest form Unleashing feelings from within Obliteration of demons Freedom from earthly sins Not a supply and demand commodity Love works in abundance A never ending main course Best served with consistency and redundance A light that never dies Patented with a luminous golden glow Given in large quantities All forms begin to growWritten by https://www.threads.com/@the_darkness_1975 This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

there shall forever be poetry etched into the stars shattered in the sky reveries, tracing constellation lines with a sudden flash of twin minds the clever ones the quick-tongued thieves and psychopomps spinning verses out of fallen leaves. I embody, forever, the mercurial youth a lover of words who paints in the dark with cosmic phrases and a punchline spark guiding souls into their own underworlds with each word I wield, I shatter the syntax of the universe. turning a black hole into a playful verse may our words forever burn etched into the stars, asteroids, moon and sun.Written by https://www.threads.com/@audreylorea This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

The wind, green fields, trees, wildflowers, lakes, rivers, oceans— in them the voice of the ancestors speaks to my soul. I stand on their shoulders, with kindness, strength, and love rooted in me. Roots run deep; when storms come and wind lashes the hedges, I bend and do not break. I keep kindness near as a quiet reflex, believing it should be a birthright, a rhythm in my breath. Love begins and ends with me, even when given and not returned, it does not die and it does not come back void. It travels like light through the quiet rooms of memory, lighting the corners where doubt gathered, turning fear into dawn. Like the trees, like the green fields, like the flowers, we all carry a unique beauty. No one is more beautiful than another. We display our beauty in harmony, each hue a note in a living chorus. Lakes, rivers, oceans are powerful, whether standing still or moving, they keep ancient time. Mighty enough to create paths, to carry you on journeys, with currents that whisper beneath the surface, guiding toward truth. The voice of the ancestors flows beneath my feet, a chorus in the wind, a hammer on the forge of my heart. I carry their maps in my hands and their songs in my veins, learning to walk softly, yet with a will that never yields. In open skies where horizons meet, I hear promises in the rustle of leaves, in the hush between breaths. Promises of kindness, of courage wrapped in gentleness, of love that grows stronger when shared, not hoarded. The earth remembers every footprint, every act of care, and I tread with gratitude, leaving footprints that heal. I bend toward mercy, I rise toward justice, speaking with the patience of rivers and the quiet endurance of mountains. If storms return, I cradle the inner garden of my spirit, watering it with hope, feeding it with honesty, pruning what harms, letting resilience bloom in colors I name and in colors I cannot. For I am made of wind and soil and singing seed, a chorus of kin across time, braided by memory and dream. All around me the world testifies with beauty— and I, too, am a proof of grace, a living note in the symphony of becoming.Written by https://www.threads.com/@lifeispoetrytoo This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

Hot Vampire Summer I want to sit beside you Next to the lake On a little blanket Having a sweet escape I want to laugh and dream But it never stays clean Something in me turns sharp When the world starts to gleam The daylight drags me open Like I have no skin left Like every thought gets louder And every calm gets theft I try to act like normal Like I belong in heat But something in my chest breaks Each time I hit the street I watch them move so easy Like bodies made for sun While I am splitting slowly Into two halves undone One half wants to be there Wants laughter and your face The other wants to vanish From every open space I want the night beside me Where breathing feels less wrong Where I don’t have to fake it Where I can still belong The lake at night feels softer Like it knows this kind of man Like I don’t have to fight it Or explain what I am in And I keep thinking quietly Through everything I feel If I should stop pretending And make something feel real Can I ask you tonight To come down to the lake Just you and me and silence No daylight left to breakWritten by https://www.threads.com/@the.insomniac.in.black This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

when the night settles and the world softens around the edges, my thoughts drift to you, steady, warm, the glow I lean into. your presence lingers on my skin like the memory of a touch, gentle but certain, a warmth that spreads from my chest outward. I close my eyes and feel you there, not in the stars above, but in the quiet heat beneath my ribs, the place where longing turns into something tender. you are my evening star, but also the warmth that never leaves.Written by https://www.threads.com/@joni.ta125 This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

under the weeping willow evening gathered in celadon tones tears circling the roots like small forgotten moons the river carried petals charred leaves the faint gold of extinguished daylight I thought how quietly the world departs moonmilk fading beneath wet bark seasons vanishing from the bones of the garden one luminous thing after another between one breath and the next a white petal loosened itself into the current silence neither refusing life nor grieving the dark water ahead Written by https://www.threads.com/@mellie.melts.into.wonder This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

"Hiraeth"~ Somewhere in Edinburgh, beneath grey skies and rain. Little cafés glow in gold, through misty window panes. Violins drift through alleyways, old church bells ring. Fresh coffee and warm bread, on cold windy evenings. Books resting by fireplaces, cozy corners beckon you. A city that heals the heart, without even meaning to. Some souls truly belong, to places they’ve never known. To cliffs, clovers and castles, that somehow feel like home.Written by https://www.threads.com/@_shona_alysa_ This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

She's got stardust in her hair, and moonbeams in her eyes, while he's all rough edges, and storms he cannot disguise. She is made of silver light, of soft and sacred things, the kind of beauty that arrives on quiet, unseen wings. And he, he is weathered earth, old scars beneath his skin, a man who learned to bar the door and keep the darkness in. Yet somehow she found him. Not with thunder. Not with flame. But softly, the way dawn enters a room and nothing stays the same. She's got galaxies caught between her laugh and sigh, and every time she looks his way, another buried part can fly. She doesn't know what her presence stirs, how his pulse remembers her before a single word is heard. How every memory returns like waves against the shore, bringing back the pieces he thought he'd lost before. Because she reaches places he buried deep below, where all the tender things he hid were never meant to grow. And now her absence haunts him. The stars still linger in the memory of her hair. The moonlight still remains like a whispered, answered prayer. And he is left collecting the light she left behind, like a man who maps the heavens yet leaves himself confined. She's got stardust in her hair, and moonbeams in her eyes. And maybe that's why it aches, why silence feels so loud, why he searches empty skies through every passing cloud. Because he spent his whole life looking up above, never thinking heaven's light would feel so much like love. Never dreaming something so rare would settle in his heart and find a home there. And now he misses her with every fading star, like the night that keeps on reaching for a moon too far. She's got stardust in her hair, and moonbeams in her eyes, and he's left holding shadows, where once he held the skies.Written by https://www.threads.com/@thriftygirl365 This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

A calm I've never known Meeting a best friend for the very first time Someone I've dreamt about Soothes to the core of my being No outside voices to bombard Just.......inner peace Hearing the sounds of nature Tree leaves bustling in the wind Birds prophetically singing their song A breeze blows gently over my skin The hairs on my arms violently stand up Chills from head to toe Like an angel kissing my forehead Letting me know the world is full of wonder Someone I have to know Feeling the sun on my skin A warmth that gives both peace and energy The perfect balance from within Euphoria takes over in perfect bliss As the follicles relax The energy rises Like an out of body experience Floating in the clouds Looking down on this beautiful Earth Taking everything in Whisk me away to this magical land It speaks to me in song Feels like an old friend I've known all alongWritten by https://www.threads.com/@the_darkness_1975 This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

Autumn Refuses to Lie About Time Nothing dies. It just stops pretending to be green. Trees spend summer hiding real colors behind chlorophyll. Autumn is when the disguise falls away. The gold was always there. Not decay. Honesty. Autumn’s First Promise Every leaf it drops is a letter to spring. A falling leaf isn’t waste. The tree sends nutrients to roots before it lets go. What falls feeds soil for next year. Autumn is the first move spring makes. Light That Leans Closer Days don’t shorten. They deepen, and turn everything to amber. The sun stays lower in autumn. Shadows stretch. Light travels through more air to reach you, which filters it warm. That’s why 4pm feels like firelight. The Quiet That Knows Your Name Cold air holds scent like a secret. That’s why autumn smells like memory. Warm air scatters smells. Cold air traps molecules close to ground. Smoke, wet leaves, apples linger. Autumn smells stronger because air listens. The Sky’s Unfinished Sentence Birds don’t leave. They punctuate the year with we’ll be back. A V of geese isn’t goodbye. It’s migration written as grammar. Sky uses birds to put a comma in the year, not a period. They’re promising the return trip.Written by https://www.threads.com/@the_autumn_1 This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

golden hour bleeds and splashes onto the floor and in my eyes. i am catching fire in the quiet. took a picture of the sunset on my skin but it wasn’t the sun making me glow… it was the humming of our souls. the dreamers who speak in stardust and alignments the ascended souls who look at my shadows and trace them back to constellations. this is the alchemy of building a home out of open hands and shared portals. i feel the heat of your energy. softening the sharp edges of my world, pulling me through the threshold of everything i used to only dream about. my aura is dripping in this amber light. visceral, thick, and humming. i am glowing because you exist, because we wove this safety out of thin air and thick devotion. rooted. golden. awake.Written by https://www.threads.com/@audreylorea This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

the sun makes love to me touches places no one ever reached before kisses me until my skin stays marked for days warms me into the color of burnt sugar leaves me smelling like passion sometimes it hurts and i always ask for more every summer i lie beneath him saying: just for today my love can waitWritten by https://www.threads.com/@nina_sorelle_ This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

Hope & Should such flaky words & flakiness has no place here sharp shapes of slate chipped my mind but then was made whole eventually in a winding way mistiful confusion then the path appears autumn fall fell into cosy comforts but don’t let the season fool you the place, the home is where you choose it to be where the heart is or could be choose home as a state of mind so yes, sharp shapes of slate may chip away but decide to be made whole holistically & eventually the suffocation & the morose heaviness imparted onto my wellbeing past my comfort baseline of melancholy hovering at the dipping point of the depressive state; but I go to New England for the Fall so I don’t fallWritten by Anureet, background music by https://www.threads.com/@voltaires_inkwell This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

I love the sound of city rain.. carrying with it the slightest spring chill, through a barely cracked window as I melt into the reprieve of a blankets gentle touch on my skin and a book's promise a new story waiting, as the softest breeze wisps around me like a whisper in a world far too loud who says we are bound by reality anyway? when turning pages can so easily take us away, and raindrops transform even the most ordinary day? I love the sound of city rain..Written by https://www.threads.com/@toujours.ria This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

Deep in a wood past overgrown dirt roads and lesser-traveled paths a cabin waits no longer abandoned but rejoined to the land Logs weathered to silver their growth rings holding time carved edges remembering the hands that shaped them Windows mirror only trees now vines draw the corners shut the roof bows gently to the slow grammar of seasons Long ago footsteps pressed into soil voices settled in the grain Light sifts through rafters like dust remembering air The hewn wood returns to the living tree, root and beam speak the same language And the forest patient as breath remembers everything and keeps its ownWritten by https://www.threads.com/@laurajmwrites This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

Until You Come Home I ache for the moment when we can simply be us, unraveled by distance, uncurled by time’s insistence. Let the hour arrive where hands find their map anew, where every touch redraws the familiar lines into poetry. You occupy my thoughts, my dreams, my heart; I long for you, and my pulse quickens in anticipation of the moment you come home to me. My love, I miss you. Until then, I listen for your steps in the hall, for the sound of your breath easing into mine, for the small rituals—coffee steam, a shared smile— that stitch the day’s fragments into a single thread. When you return, let the world fall away: the clock, the noise, the ordinary glare of daylight, and leave us in the soft gravity of your embrace, where every whispered promise is a dawn. Let me learn your mouth anew in the language of patience, let me memorize the warmth of your hand in the dark, let the quiet deepen until it feels like home— not a place, but a compass, always pointing true. And if the night keeps its own pace, if distance keeps score, we will write our own counter-melody in the margins of time: two voices, one pulse, a shared breath that never breaks.Written by https://www.threads.com/@lifeispoetrytoo This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

Authenticity is not loud. It does not arrive dressed for applause, nor does it rehearse its entrance. It moves quietly through the body, like breath you forgot you were holding. It is the unedited version of you; the glance that lingers too long, the voice that trembles when it means something, the instinct you follow even when it costs you and it always costs you. There is a peculiar beauty in that kind of honesty. Not polished, not curated, but alive. It flickers in imperfections: in the way your thoughts spill out unevenly, in the moments you choose truth over approval, in the subtle refusal to become something more convenient, something less problematic...something not you. To be authentic is to stand in your own light without adjusting its temperature for others. It is the courage of being seen without translation. No softening. No distortion. Just presence; raw, specific, irreplaceable. And somehow, that is what draws people closer. Because authenticity does not ask to be admired. It simply exists, and in doing so, it gives others permission to exist more fully too. It says: you do not have to perform to be worthy. You do not have to edit yourself to be loved. There is beauty in that; quiet, defiant, enduring, and raw. The kind that does not fade, because it was never trying to be anything other than real. 🫶Written by https://www.threads.com/@voltaires_inkwell This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

Also tell me when the fire Melted the ice around the still beating heart How was the realisation of new Bright Blessed lust, A slow burn, burning beautifully. When, did you realise you couldn't run anymore from my presence Amongst your hills Happily singing my songs My name, cracking Like thunder and lightning Across your sky.Written by https://www.threads.com/@aurorablackpelt This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

Paper Wings At first glance I thought You were a butterfly Elegant, shining A beauty no one can deny I thought you caught every eye That you could steal every scene That when any problem comes You would spread your wings and leave But pretty things get shaky When the weather turns cold And underneath the colors Was a frightened little soul You looked made for heaven Like some bright artistic sign But your wings were made of paper And your storms all became mine Now you circle every fire Like you need the pain to breathe Trading pieces of your spirit For illusions and relief And I hold the ash of who you were While staring at the cloth Because I did not love a butterfly I fell in love with a mothWritten by https://www.threads.com/@the.insomniac.in.black This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

They say we are made of stars.. and I know not if that is true.. I think perhaps we are born of the remnants, like ash, that remain.. for what are we really, If not born of the void? But is that not too magic? The becoming from the darkness.. a reminder that no spark of light is ever in vain.. for here you are.. here you are.. the indomitable spirit, born of ash, the absense of all you could have clung to.. yet lit in spite, your very own everlasting flame.Written by https://www.threads.com/@toujours.ria This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

Every day, at the edge of worlds, where the path dissolved into the shadow of trees, she slipped off her shoes- as if shedding the weight of human order. She stood barefoot at the forest’s threshold, and for a brief moment, she fell silent with it. Closing her eyes, she let the pine-scented breath seep deep into her, down to the very roots of her soul. The whisper of birds was no longer sound, but a language she understood without words. Mist wove itself through the branches, and the damp earth carried the scent of everything that had come before her. She stepped further in- not as a visitor, but as a part of the place. With every step, boundaries faded, roles dissolved, and the need to suppress what was wild and primal disappeared. In the forest, there were no masks. No expectations. There was only her- bare in her truth, calm, untamed. For the forest did not welcome her. The forest recognized her.  Written by https://www.threads.com/@your.daddy.kisser This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

evening slips in slowly, settling along the railing small lights flicker faintly barely noticed in the twilight, but still present warmth rests in the intertwined vines, caught between worn floorboards and the gentle breeze the horizon dims, far and close, a palette that doesn’t rush just stays a steady presence remaining blending deeper into the stillness, threading through spaces that never asked to be filled just a glow that holds long after it’s seenWritten by https://www.threads.com/@luxluminouss This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

Alicelike I've been down the rabbit hole Far too many times Mad as a hatter With my hat as a matter Speaking in cryptic rhymes I went small and I went big To fit through all their doors You are not what you think you are Look different from near or far Until you get off course Making sense makes no sense When nonsense is consent Safety just misleads you In a land of restraints So sometimes I take the hike again Down this damn rabbit hole To feel a bit more like I used to, A bit more of my soulWritten by https://www.threads.com/@the.insomniac.in.black This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

The ground beneath her rumbled So far off in the distance Things were beginning to shift Change was coming She felt the balance alter She understood She knew she needed to ground She felt the ascension The techtonic plates were shifting She knew her place in the world She was to walk it She was to live Now in it She tread lightly And thanked all that was For all that is And all that ever will be For all the beauty She was grateful She understoodWritten by https://www.threads.com/@silly.sabrina.rose79feelinfine This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

I say the sky is blue, you say it’s gray, yet the universe insists we’ve been connected all along. You ask for proof; I answer with a patient breath…… be consistent, I whisper, and time unfolds. The cosmos sighs between us, intervening softly: fix this, you belong together. I miss you in the quiet between words; you say, show it, and the stars repeat our names in their ancient glow.  We are yin and yang, living through time, a tide of bright disparity merging into calm. You are fire, I am flame-born longing; when we meet, the world falls silent—only ours, a single pulse of breath and skin and light. Feeling each other, we drift toward becoming us, the imperfect us, choosing each other again and again. Every day, a new constellation of us to discover, loving today, and beyond, in a wider, patient dawn. Written by https://www.threads.com/@lifeispoetrytoo This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

To get lost for a while. Letting my skin dissolve under the breath of night. Breathe me in, Stars. Let the wind be my lover, Learning each secret after waves Waves And Waves of mystical chanting. My very soul, escaping me. Pull me in, Moon, silver lips against My lips. Hold me, Rest against my chest, Nebula, stars, black holes Moons Asteroids Planets Constellations: Have all of me, Night Take it, Take it all. Stardust, sing! Unravel me.Written by https://www.threads.com/@aurorablackpelt This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

Come to me in the silence of the night; Come in the speaking silence of a dream; Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright As sunlight on a stream; Come back in tears, O memory, hope, love of finished years. Oh dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter sweet, Whose wakening should have been in Paradise, Where souls brimfull of love abide and meet; Where thirsting longing eyes Watch the slow door That opening, letting in, lets out no more. Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live My very life again tho’ cold in death: Come back to me in dreams, that I may give Pulse for pulse, breath for breath: Speak low, lean low, As long ago, my love, how long ago.Written by Christina RossettiFrom Poetry Foundation This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

You can hear it, visually see it— the condiments. Do I think of you, lovely? I have borne those eyes— remembrance, before me and after. Such is pure, bridled lease to life. Scorch the earth, ray the earth— outstanding one. Such is the wish of gin: drink once—missed twice, faded by the third. “Sorry,” “worry”… but lip service— a jackal of no comfort, a cruel mistress. So please—keep worry, and shine for the third. Once upon… Another story is written... with me, the ever-enjoyable reader.Written by https://www.threads.com/@munyxs This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

Storms in the sky Clouds rolling in Like they know something We don’t say out loud Air is cool Underneath It's warming A slow build of something Just beneath the surface Skin slightly exposed Catching the contrast Chill and heat Isn’t that how it starts Shift Charge Storm system forming Quiet first Then impossible to ignore Because sometimes It's not about chaos Sometimes All we want is softness A gentle touch Reminding We’re here Feel Release Everything We’ve been holding Let it fall like rainWritten by https://www.threads.com/@kristen.sha.living This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

Let me lay down in an open field Or on velvety moss Let me breathe in natures smell Take in the sounds Let earth envelop me Head to toes Feel its pulse Or maybe near a creek A beautiful river Hear the water flowing The birds singing The bees buzzing Let a butterfly land on the tip of my nose Leave me alone with earth For its us,the people the world Who usually destroy it Who take So leave me alone Under the shade of forrest trees Among the crawling creatures My feet touching soil Let me lay down Among nature Breathe in that air Leave me among the beautiful wild things Let earth wrap me up In the middle of nowhere Forget the rest The noise And just be For awhile You can join if you'd likeWritten by https://www.threads.com/@hopeless.chubby.romantic7 This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

The scent of rain has always been dear to me; 𝖲𝗈 𝗂𝗌 solitude, which by so wide a range Gives me a glimpse of my inner horizons. Here, quite ashore, staring at the endless void And beyond the bounds of mundane fantasy, I bare my being of the burden of conscience, Take a wrinkle in time to get along wi' the wild, To get alone for a while with the churlish child As the leaves of dread and all of grief fade With the cleansing return of innocence. The dusk in my eyes was once a turbid river Of sparkling dreams, in the hollow of which Twinkl'd candor like crystal coins underwater. I seize a pink of release in the death of doubt; And lo! it takes so little a thing For my all to thaw in awe At what gravity is ailing to tame. I catch a sense of ease in the depth of though; And oh! it takes so slight a thrill For all my sight to fall afright At what my soul is failing to name. Like a blooming in slow process Thorough in the art of softly unfolding From the drying ruins of what used to be, I lay the wilting grace of yesterday's flowers Down into the garden of oblivious blossoms. And as the drifting self dwells lost In the fizzing and marvel of hearing The howling breeze through the foliage; I, I compare my silence to the sigh of Nature, To that voice, the suave tunes of which Murmur in the mirth of memory The remembrance of olden joys, The obsolete seasons, the generous ones, The careless spectre of lively youth all clad in her garment of glaring noise. Thus I see my thinking sink in the Immensity, And tender is the tide in this sea of wonder! — 𝖠𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖺, 𝑇𝒉𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝐼𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝖨𝗇𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖦𝗂𝖺𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗈 𝖫𝖾𝗈𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗂'𝗌 𝐿'𝐼𝑛𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑜 – 1819 –Written by https://www.threads.com/@handofdust101 This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

...before the day asked anything of you. You were laying there in that quiet hour when the world still belongs to itself, shoulders loose, sleep still resting in the corners of your eyes, a smile beginning to form like you hadn’t quite decided whether the day deserved it. And I noticed the way morning seemed to gather around you. Not because you tried to be seen. You didn’t. That was the thing. There was something steady about you, the kind of strength that doesn’t perform, that doesn’t need the room to know it’s there. It lived in the way you stretched slowly, in the calm weight of your presence, in the quiet certainty of a man who has nothing to prove. Your eyes were softer than I expected. Dawnlight caught in them like it had found a place it wanted to stay. And when you smiled, it wasn’t polished or careful. It was crooked. Warm. A little tired. Human. The kind of smile that makes a woman feel suddenly aware of how close she is to heaven. Morning slid through the window and touched the edge of your face, your jaw, the lines time and living had written into you. It made everything about you look honest. No armor yet. Just you. I don’t think you knew how beautiful you were in that moment. Not the loud kind of beauty people chase. Something quieter. The kind that makes the air feel heavier, makes a woman pause and watch longer than she meant to. Morning found poetry in you. And laying there beside you, pretending not to stare, I realized something that ached a little. Some men carry whole sunrises in them without ever knowing it.Written by https://www.threads.com/@thriftygirl365 This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

When you’re near, the world falls quiet— like every sound bends toward your name, and even the air forgets to move unless it’s to carry your breath to me. I have run from things I couldn’t face, but never from you. Your eyes find me, root me to the earth, make stillness feel like truth. Each word you speak pours through me, turning fear into something tender. In your arms, the past dissolves— the edges of my life blur and fade, until there is only now, only your heartbeat teaching mine to follow. You spin me into orbit, a star surrendered to its gravity. Your touch leaves trails of memory, and your kiss burns through reason— beautiful, reckless, infinite. I am lost, and I don’t want saving. Drowning feels like flying here, where every breath is borrowed from you. If love is a storm, let it tear through me; if love is ruin, let me burn clean. I give myself over, body and soul, to the perfect undoing of your name. Your scent lingers after the silence— a prayer whispered into the dark. You move, and time bends around you. I try to look away, but the world turns back to find your face. You are my undoing, my calm, my wind— the ache I crave, the cure I fear. In the hollow of your arms, I remember what it means to feel infinite. You stitch light into my scars, teach brokenness how to shine. If this love is wrong, then let it be endless. I’d rather lose myself completely than stand whole without you. See me falling— heart first, breathless, undone. If this dream is all I have, don’t wake me. Let the dawn wait outside a little longer. For in every reflection, I find your soul; in every heartbeat, I return to the quiet fire where I’m forever lost in you.Written by https://substack.com/@chicandchillingreads This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

In the corner of my mind, Next to the willow tree, There's a spot of golden green moss. A stream pushes through. Nymphs and satyrs play together As I sit to be content with my soul. Lightning and thunder came along, My heart a trembling leaf bathed With raindrops of loud resonating certainty. Their clarity water brings, undeniable: I see his soul. The man with a spark of Odin. In his eyes a fire burning within. A heart, molted gold, diamantine. Obsidian blade cutting through. My forest heart, My jaguar scarred soul. Gently stayed, spellbound by His unwilling spell. An Acer leaf in his hands. Gentle hands have known war. Hunger, dark, death, strife. I ran, but jaguar caught up with me, Carrying me back by the neck, Sharp fangs tearing up the skin. My sky pours out, and I bleed, gods I bleed. He won't believe my words. No. But he will see my skies above him, My greenery sheltering him from rain, My fire keeping him warm at night, My touch keeping the horrors at bay, The wars I've fought, the battles I've lost. He won't know, no. If only he knew, though, as I bleed How terrified I am of my own heart Little sweet tiny leaf Trembling in his hands.Written by https://www.threads.com/@aurorablackpelt This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

She saw him not as a stranger, but as a flame waiting for breath. Her gaze lingered... slow as honey in heat, tracing the quiet strength of his stillness and something in her awakened, wild and certain. She moved closer, a storm wrapped in silk, her presence brushing his skin like a promise Fingers found him first... to learn the language of his pulse, the rhythm beneath restraint.  He inhaled... and she felt it, that surrender between seconds, that beautiful undoing of a man caught in the gravity of her wanting. She did not rush... ravaging was never chaos it was devotion with teeth, hunger with intention, a claiming that asked no permission because it was already given in the way he leaned into her fire. And when she claimed him... it was fire, not fury... a deep, consuming presence that left him undone and fully alive. Written by https://www.threads.com/@chasingcloudsza This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

your lips taste like the first sips of coffee as the morning sun finally comes out to play behind closed curtains. your fingertips feel like pastels on sand paper, gently bringing softness with every stroke of velvet vibrance. your gaze is so vivid, it pierces through my hearts surface, digging deep until satisfaction and sorrow no longer create an intersection. you see the garden in me, removing every weed as they spring, embracing my seasons fluctuation. your love makes my inner child glisten.Written by https://www.threads.com/@reigning_writer This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

"Scent of Memories” Old books and candles, smoke drifts in the air. Wet earth after rain, memories everywhere. Crackling wood burns, on still, quiet nights. A hint of rose and pine, in fading dusk twilights. Freshly washed linen, sun-warmed and clean. Sea breeze drifting, like a distant dream. Warm baked bread, incense wafting slow. Some days they linger, never to let go. Soft familiar scents, I can’t outgrow. They find my heart, more than I know.Written by https://www.threads.com/@_shona_alysa_ This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

Unarmored Let me remove your armor, piece by piece. Let me undress your soul till it lies bare before me. I’ll kiss and caress every scar, every bruise. I’ll love the darkest parts of you you keep under lock and key. It isn’t fair that we can share laughter and light while you forsake your shadows of the night. Let me love you in your entirety— you don’t have to wear your armor with me.Written by https://www.threads.com/@dark_witchy_goddess This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

Through the Heat of You I was the echo, chasing night, a restless hum beneath the light. Then came your fire, body and breath— a soft surrender, sweet as death. You touched my voice before it spoke, turned every shiver into smoke. Beneath your gaze I came undone, my pulse aligned—two hearts, one sun. The room inhaled, the world grew small, time bowed, and shadows blurred it all. Each movement whispered, slow and low, a language only fever knows. Your fingers searched, my reason fled, each gasp rewrote the things I’d said. Between the wanting and the take, you taught my hunger how to wake. Your skin—an ocean without shore, I drank, I sank, I needed more. The taste of dusk along your spine, the quiet burn of lips on mine. The air grew heavy, sharp, divine, I lost my edge, you lost the line. Each breath we took, each pause, each start, was poetry with a beating heart. You found the places fear had sealed, the cracks where longing never healed. Your mouth became my secret prayer, your hands rewove the dark with care. I opened, trembled, called your name, and nothing after felt the same. The night collapsed beneath our flame, and even silence bowed to claim. If love’s a sin, then damn me near, for joy has never felt so clear. You draw salvation from my sigh, and teach the fall how not to die. I crave the truth you make of pain, the thunder pulsing in your vein. You taste of honey, smoke, and storm— and I am lost in every form. Now every dawn feels half-asleep, your warmth the pulse I want to keep. Inside your arms, my world stands still— obedient to your perfect will. The sun can rise, the world can turn, but I remain where embers burn. Your breath restores the night I knew— I live, I die, through the heat of you. And when at last the light breaks through, I kneel before the shape of you. Not out of loss, nor out of plea, but awe for what you’ve made of me. Your name becomes the truth I say, the hymn that turns my pain to clay. In every wound, your warmth shines through— eternal flame, my faith — is youWritten by https://substack.com/@chicandchillingreads This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

Your hands finds me with a certainty that feels practiced, not careful, not hesitant, just knowing exactly where to stay until I feel it everywhere. There’s something dangerous in the way you take your time, like you’re testing how much I can hold before I stop pretending I’m in control of it. I should step back. I don’t. Instead, I meet you there, closer than I meant to be, close enough that every breath feels like it belongs to both of us now. Your touch isn’t soft. It’s deliberate. Pressing, lingering, like you want a reaction, like you expect one. And I give it to you. Not all at once, but in pieces. The way my shoulders loosen The way my hands stop behaving. The way I lean in instead of away. You notice. Of course you do. Your grip shifts just enough and it sends something sharp and warm through me, fast enough to steal whatever I was about to say. There’s no space left now. Not really. Just contact, heat layered over heat, movement that starts small and then refuses to stay that way. You push, just slightly, and I push back. Not to stop you. Never to stop you. But to feel it more. To meet that pressure with something equal, something that says don’t hold back now. Because I’m not. Because whatever this is, it isn’t careful anymore. It’s the way your hands don’t leave. The way mine don’t either. The way every second stretches tighter, like something about to snap or give. And right there, on that edge, I let go of the last excuse to pull away. Not because you made me. Because I want to know how far this goes when neither of us stops.Written by https://www.threads.com/@thriftygirl365 This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

I am ember and ache, a slow-burn wrapped in shadow, lips curved with secrets you’ll never quite outrun. I move like temptation close enough to feel, never enough to tame, heat teasing the edge of your control. My voice is velvet dipped in flame, my touch a question that lingers— soft… until it isn’t, sweet… until it ruins you. I am the spark behind your restraint, the ache you try to name, the danger dressed like desire calling you closer anyway. So tell me... when I look at you like this, all fire and invitation… would you be my villain...?Written by https://www.threads.com/@chasingcloudsza This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com

The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the ocean, The winds of heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one spirit meet and mingle. Why not I with thine?— See the mountains kiss high heaven And the waves clasp one another; No sister-flower would be forgiven If it disdained its brother; And the sunlight clasps the earth And the moonbeams kiss the sea: What is all this sweet work worth If thou kiss not me?Written by Percy Bysshe Shelley This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit anureetwrites.substack.com