Love me until the flames of the last star burn out
She played the keys of my heart, gently yet sensually, setting my soul on fire.
Love is wind for the soul
My heart's scripture tastes foreign in the mouths of cowards and on the tongues of those who have never breathed in the moon and breathed out the world.
MOM Wholeheartedly, She loved me- And inspired me- With transcending devotion. It was a blessing- To have been her son, To have been loved- Without conditions. Her words of wisdom- Opened my eyes- To the world- And to myself. By seeing the best in me, She empowered me. By believing in me, She transformed me. She grew old- And floated away, But her love remains standing- Eternally by my side.
I open my eyes. I want to know: what is in the abyss of a kiss? Are stars born in these black caves that house bated breaths and unspoken words? Do our souls crawl on these tender cheeks to greet one another by ivory gates? What happens when we kiss? Where do you go? Don’t tell me. For I have lost my desire to know. Kiss me so that I forget myself. I close my eyes and fall in the abyss.
Brahma and Airavata Long ago in lands of golden sand Brahma turned to Saraswati and gently kissed her inked hand....
I loved being near you. Even though I felt that bubble you had around you, even though I never quite knew what you were thinking, damn, did I love being near you. Somehow, I knew you would rip me apart and drown me. Somehow, I knew we wouldn’t last. It didn’t matter. You were my sun. I loved feeling you upon me, around me, between me. Even though you could only love me from a distance, I didn’t care. I never felt more warmth inside of me than when you were against me.
Beneath her curls, I forget the world, With a mere gaze she raises my hopes of gold. Love is as much in her heart as in mine, But she doesn’t say it, her punishment so divine.
She once told me that she stalks me day and night She has me in her feelings and in her sight... Her heart keeps telling me things in the night that she is afraid to tell me in daylight... My heart know that she loves me But life is strange and we never know where two people will end up next Love and soul are not to behold Her eyes speak in unknown words And we continue to drift sometimes nearer and sometimes apart!!
THE WEATHER OF LOVE Love Has a way of wilting Or blossoming At the strangest, Most unpredictable hour. This is how love is, An uncontrollable beast In the form of a flower. The sun does not always shine on it. Nor does the rain always pour on it Nor should it always get beaten by a storm. Love does not always emit the sweetest scents, And sometimes it can sting with its thorns. Water it. Give it plenty of sunlight. Nurture it, And the flower of love will Outlive you. Neglect it or keep dissecting it, And its petals will quickly curl up and die. This is how love is, Perfection is a delusional vision. So love the person who loves you Unconditionally, And abandon the one Who only loves you Under favorable Conditions.
For me, you are fresh water that falls from trees when it has stopped raining. For me, you are cinnamon that lingers on the tongue and gives bitter words sweetening. For me, you are the scent of violins and vision of valleys smiling. And still, for me, your loveliness never ends. It traverses the world and finds its way back to me. Only me.
I wonder if you ever read my poems and wish they were written for you.
Here's another poem, like all others before and after, dedicated to you. There isn't anything left to be said but I will spend my life trying to put you into words. You who is every goodness, every optimism and hope. Your love is a better fate for me than anything I could wish for. If you are a part of me, then you’re the best part. And if you're separate from me, then you are my destination. But I’ve become a weary traveller, so please, let us never be apart.
A sky full of stars and he was staring at her.
I don't want perfect I want something real. Something that makes me feel.
Without the wetness of your love, the fragrance of your water, or the trickling sounds of your voice ― I shall always feel thirsty.
Tonight my heart weeps on behalf of my eyes a reluctant delegation of tears like condensation on a window on the verge of falling Tonight I am a ruin a castle made of sand The tide has come to reclaim me I am a mirage in a ghost's memory already gone if I was ever here Tonight I am the blood of the rose squeezed and pressed in a child's hand I am the moon without the sun My light is dimming and the moths have taken up residence in my stomach where the butterflies once lived It is dark and they are hungry Tomorrow I will keep planting flowers in my soul Winter will pass They will bloom and the butterflies will return
Think the tree that bears nutrition: though the fruits are picked, the plant maintains fruition. So give all the love you have. Do not hold any in reserve. What is given is not lost; it shall return.
Thinking of you is a poison I drink often.