I'd kiss her cheek.
I'd feel the bump that she makes when she smiles.
Withdraw myself to look her in the eyes with her pupils dilated and her lips curving slowly to form a smile made for me.
I'd see my own reflection in her eyes.
My own pupils dilating in her dilated pupils.
My own lips forming a smile as they get closer to touch her smiling lips.
The air filling itself with a heavy blanket under which only us two exist now.
No sound penetrating us.
No outside world being a part.
Only us two in the grazing of our skins, feeling each other's sadness and sorrows mixing together into desire as we become one to be one.
To withdraw from this moment would be criminal.
To withdraw from her would be disastrous.
I don't want to leave her.
I don't want the air to have a space between us.
I want to feel her skin so long our temperatures become one and the sensation that this isn't a part of me vanishes.
I want to see her smile.
I want to hear her whisper with it's soft high and soft lows in its quietened sincerity.
I want to paint her.
I want to write her.
I want to sing her.
I want to be hers.
Why did it have to be too late?
#review #nirma #poetry
I'd feel the bump that she makes when she smiles.
Withdraw myself to look her in the eyes with her pupils dilated and her lips curving slowly to form a smile made for me.
I'd see my own reflection in her eyes.
My own pupils dilating in her dilated pupils.
My own lips forming a smile as they get closer to touch her smiling lips.
The air filling itself with a heavy blanket under which only us two exist now.
No sound penetrating us.
No outside world being a part.
Only us two in the grazing of our skins, feeling each other's sadness and sorrows mixing together into desire as we become one to be one.
To withdraw from this moment would be criminal.
To withdraw from her would be disastrous.
I don't want to leave her.
I don't want the air to have a space between us.
I want to feel her skin so long our temperatures become one and the sensation that this isn't a part of me vanishes.
I want to see her smile.
I want to hear her whisper with it's soft high and soft lows in its quietened sincerity.
I want to paint her.
I want to write her.
I want to sing her.
I want to be hers.
Why did it have to be too late?
#review #nirma #poetry
The man who desperately craves love is just like any other man.
There's no particular adjective of shame or kindness to associate with him.
Love is natural. Love is attractive.
I desperately crave love.
Hers would be the best.
It is familiar.
It is known.
I know her smell.
I know the intonation of her voice.
I know how tight she grips.
I know what she likes.
I know when she was born.
I know what her voice sounds like echoing in the compartment of Delhi metro.
But as she used to say it's not like time won't make us forget it.
It's not like it was permanent.
New things will come along.
I tried to desperately not desperately crave love.
But I have now come to realise to crave love is what nature wants.
I could force myself to not crave it but it would be unnatural. As unnatural as a fish swimming upstream.
Nature takes it course and nature will always take it's course.
So idc.
I want to love.
I want to be loved.
And I want to ride the Delhi metro in love once more.
#review #nirma #poetry
There's no particular adjective of shame or kindness to associate with him.
Love is natural. Love is attractive.
I desperately crave love.
Hers would be the best.
It is familiar.
It is known.
I know her smell.
I know the intonation of her voice.
I know how tight she grips.
I know what she likes.
I know when she was born.
I know what her voice sounds like echoing in the compartment of Delhi metro.
But as she used to say it's not like time won't make us forget it.
It's not like it was permanent.
New things will come along.
I tried to desperately not desperately crave love.
But I have now come to realise to crave love is what nature wants.
I could force myself to not crave it but it would be unnatural. As unnatural as a fish swimming upstream.
Nature takes it course and nature will always take it's course.
So idc.
I want to love.
I want to be loved.
And I want to ride the Delhi metro in love once more.
#review #nirma #poetry