Skip to main content

This love



Unpretentious.
Rough Trade.
Umbrella of lust.
This love.
Overrated.
Juxtaposed.
Termite.
Eats your fire.
This love.
Charred by the depths of obsession.
Undeterred.
Makes you free.
And Chained.
And Maimed.
And Smoked.
And Stoked.
This love.
The soreness of tenderness.
The raspberry tears.
Sleuth of breathlessness.
Violently posh.

Incredibly diabolical.
This Love.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Rise with you

  When the sun stretches its golden arms, and the morning whispers your name, I think of you, steady as the tide, warm as the hearth, a beacon in the quiet storm.   Your laughter, a melody that dances through the chaos, a song I hum when the world grows heavy. Your spirit, unyielding, a tree rooted deep, its branches reaching for the infinite sky.   In your presence, I am more. Not because you fill me, but because you remind me of the light I carry within. You are the mirror that reflects the beauty I often forget.   Together, we are a symphony— not perfect, but alive, each note a testament to the joy of being seen, of being known. You are my safe harbour, my compass in the wild, my friend, my love, my vista   And when the night falls, and the stars blink awake, I will rise with you not above, not below, but besides, always besides, in the quiet grace of this boundless love.   And when the night descen...
Post a Comment
Read more

Morning Walk

  I was smitten by the silence of the dawn, or perhaps it was the dew that clung to the grass like a secret too fragile to speak. The trees stood tall, their leaves whispering stories of nights spent wrestling the wind, and I thought it was just me but the sparrow, too, carried the weight of its nest, the ant its crumb, the spider its web, each thread trembling with the burden of holding on.   The sun rose, not with a fanfare, but with a quiet insistence, pushing through the haze like a hand reaching for a forgotten name.   A butterfly brushed past, its wings a flicker of pale yellow against the orange sky, and I thought it was just me but the flower, too, had its petals to unfurl, its nectar to offer, its brief, bright moment in the sun.   The path stretched ahead, winding through the shadows and the light, and I thought it was just me but the earth, too, had its cracks to mend, its roots to...
Post a Comment
Read more

On a special note (Haikus)

She crosses many paths And the Sun is down Her hands are curious Laughter reverberated with ease The sound of a window opening Sky is lit Love, an enigma She looks at her glasses Who is smiling now? Richness of the emotions The eyes look benign Realm of endless thoughts Great is the morning The book falls She touches her mind
Post a Comment
Read more