I will drive my poetry through your curves,
a bit above your skin,
a bit beneath your nerves
the way you bend,
the way you tilt,
covering you from end to end,
letting go all the guilt.
words will feel
as i feel you
i touch you
in places and ways
no one ever has,
through my words, spaces and commas
leaving my ink,
stealing your aromas
They come out of hiding,
appear to be abiding,
searching not, but begging for place,
place not in house, but in heart,
they are into impostering like an art,
you avoid them at start,
but end up dealing,
you look for their wounds,
wounds they have decorated,
to catch your attention,
without even a fleeting mention,
in the conversations
which involve your silences
and their stories,
your copy-paste OKs and their overdose of sorries,
you give them place,
a place in your heart,
still confused
whether as a gift of love or a loan of sympathy,
and the problem starts the moment they take it,
they try to make it something of their own,
making you forget the heartbeats you own,
they start coaxing you for more space,
you give them an inch more,
they bargain for square feets,
they nail you on your weak nerves,
even blackmail if it serves.
The delete button was given,
maybe,
to get rid of memories,
which once brought smile,
but now bring pain.
Phone got peace,
but when will mind get rid,
of those memories.
his birthday reminders get a silent treatment,
now it’s not an event anymore,
but just a notification.
She left the right collar open,
As if leaving a place
For my palms
To
massage her neck
feel the vein running parallel beneath my fingers
Or
maybe
pull her close
so much so that
i could be in two minds
whether to withdraw
from her nape
and slip through her splits
Or
just let my fingers loose their way
In her wool
Rushed from one song to another
None mothered the anxiety
Played the silence on loop
And nerves were numbed
Ages back – he came, he saw, he conquered
Now- i came (online), i saw (read), i conquered (typing)
