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The Space

You reclaimed the space by your contemplative stare at the ambience of people and intellect sometimes with a tilt of the zaftig shoulders with a fragile hand next to a cheek and the other handling the phone and it didn’t fall! the hues of yellow and red and blue the dress of a rebel, of an innocent pulchritude And those revelatory eyes well, they don’t disclose Almost! the excitement of connections the child like laughter the bonhomie over the tea the space was yours enchantingly so! the different shades of emotions had me spellbound when I close my eyes I breathe those moments like a starry eyed teenager your thoughts grant me those moments to feel the butterflies in my being every space you had occupied has a scent of your emotions

I don’t imagine loving you

I do not imagine your tresses as they fall on your shoulders, I do not admire you overwhelmingly then although I do look but not with expressions of callous flirtations but of perhaps awe or maybe a mild appreciation what if i say this now that in my subconscious reality your presence has a beauty of its own mind you it is not really therapeutic or meditative but it does makes my head argue with my heart I do look at your eyebrows when you are contemplative your eyes laugh when you do and i can gather the ripened moment when you wish to cry or seek comfort I imagine spending time with you and i most certainly look for you in my dreams, creating ripples of Innocent joys In my own way, I am smitten by your feminine swagger and love the way you share your stories I enjoy visiting book shops, cafes and libraries with you or any place where you want to be where I can get inspired by your effervescence and our ...

Few Love Haikus

a kiss marmalade of taste not able to recede the taste your tresses wild abandon final effort the peak sun shines brightly a moan flight of ecstasy the morning smile

The Ballad of the Simmering Brew

You said  that I am a nomadic transgression sold unnaturally  in this dramatic tapestry of life and I said no, its not yet so simple the journey is more easier than you imagine Its you really It's you who has brought me into this joyous melody of creative hallucinations endless daydreams and never ending confabulations I am so complicated, yeah you have simplified all of this with the streak of so much love all around You tell me all the time that we should have met earlier and I said yeah we are here and now this trajectory is the icing on the cake and we see it and feel it all the time when we see the eyes on fire this journey is more easier than you imagine It's you really it's you who has brought me into this joyous melody of creative hallucinations...

Distance

It acts like a thaw, you had claimed more time apart nurtures the left brain, alone, you are creative and silent and mildly explosive distance aggravates the intensity of togetherness, once we are together, again the rawness is prophetic (another of your philosophic rant) do I buy this argument? it so much depends on how many choices or philosophical reasoning I have in rejecting, considering that it is you who brings meaning to my innuendos who measures distance? Is it the physical realm or geographical? two people at loggerheads are also metaphorically distant people at peace, living together can also trigger the creative spunk of the left brain whether you are here or far the distance is dysfunctional to me my love for you doesn't need metaphors or stubborn rationality

Your eyes, that smile

your eyes translate your inner conflicts immaculately they shed tears when skewed by innocence or when you rise in love I always see your eyes when i visit that cafe and in the shadow of all the noises of food and cutlery I sneak my glances at you not so deliberately or so it appears if someone could sue me for being lustful towards your eyes I will go broke that smile spoils my character it's like meditation I lose myself all the while the combination is tyrannical for my beliefs

Valentine's Day

The mortal beginning of the day is simple, not overtly suspicious or conspicuous the newspaper vendor throws it on the windowpane the Sun is as magnanimous as it was yesterday it is not present of course in some places where it snows when I love, it's all the time at every fleeting moment of self discovery within me if I am deceptive to myself what will a day give to me? I love you not because it's' the right thing to do and I don't love you less or more depending on today's date Nevertheless, the celebrated saint needs to be celebrated once more In the times of chaos and climate change and politics of hate this day of smiles and flowers is gratifying to say the least