And suddenly,
my pillow smells of you.

I’ve learnt how to share the blanket.

-

Why does the taste of cherry wine you had
Still linger in my mouth?
Why did the disc of the film we decided to watch
Never reach the television?
Why do the strands of your hair
Always seem to come between our kisses?
And now, why do even the cracks on your skin,
Seem like flawless pieces of art?

-

I always wanted to
love someone broken.

Perhaps that's why
fate brought me
someone who breaks
every fortnight.

-

Know it's lust
when it's the girl
you are addicted to.


Know it's love
when it's the conversations.

-

CRY ME A RIVER
You drowned in the river of my tears
While you were trying to save the memories
Never coming up for a breathe,
Not understanding how strong the currents were,
Not realising how far from the shore you had come,
And as your still body reached the dark depths,
You too had become a memory,
And someone else too,
Would die trying to save you.

-

One day, my heart will finally
realise how poisonous love is.

But, by then, love would have
already killed me.

-

You wanted a forever.
Not momentary embraces.

The shore always wishes that the wave stops crashing into her over and over and then running away from her.
Little does she realize, that had he stayed, the sun would have taken him up to heaven and then the shore would be left alone again, wishing for another wave to crash into her.

-

Thought you had lost your power,
That you were overthrown and exiled,
Yet on looking closely in the darkness,
A silhouette could I make out finally,
Sitting on the throne of swords, a lady
Planning which one to drive through my heart.

-

Greetings broken angel
Why do you seek me?
In hope of new wings?
In search of heaven?
Or to take some rest?
None I can give you
For I, a carpenter
Can only make a straircase
But cannot say I,
If it leads to heaven,
Or straight to your grave.

-

Remember how even under the stern lookout of the teachers, two lovers used to meet in the damp dark streets under the red wooden benches? How just for a moment of forever, we used to twist and stretch our hands and fingers? We used to push the bench to the right and slip our hands in the narrow space between. And how they made love! Your's was calm, mine playful. How the fingers interwined perfectly and found our "always".
The people behind us, after discovering our secret meetings in the dark, used to tease us. But all you did was blush and hold onto my hand tighter.

Perhaps we didn't deserve a happily ever after. Perhaps it was my fault, or your, or our. But our hands? They weren't at fault, were they?

Then why did we stop them from meeting in the dark?

-