Wounded

To love me, is to love the complete me

The once butter soft skin, now wrinkled

With lines like crowfeet marking the happy days

The hairs, now grey, that felt soft ever so black 

Upon your chest as I lay asleep with a smile 

Reminiscing bliss

My lips not so supple anymore,

The breasts narrate the story of nurturing.

Yet when I bathe, I like the way the water trickles

Past my physical form and defines my soul!

How I still like being vulnerable to the touch 

I yearn and still hide within my crevasses 

The desires so strong!

The musk so strong, laden with sweat

And forgetfulness now punctuates 

Every corner of me. 

And then stands the man who loves to be loved.

To kiss without thinking, and to feel the strength

Of his muscles as much as his will against my skin.

To feel fragile and melt in love.

But he’ll never know.

Never know that his strength were born out of me

His peace attached like the umbilicals still...

Was it time to snip?

 

Café

 

The only bond was that of the coffee –

Sipping which, they sat still together.

Their thoughts, by now, quite chose to differ

And opinions alas never could be more bitter!

Yet her heart found a solace sitting quietly here

Wondering what he thought that exact moment.

Of the world that lay beyond the black door…

The gridiron pattern of the road in front

What thoughts would he have as he sipped from his mug?

Should Dickens have the wine spilt here instead…

Would he think of blood? Or a spirit refined?

So long ago, it seems to her, their thoughts held hand

…And hearts felt glad!

But things had changed for the good? Or the bad?!

No one knew, or did God after all?

The lapping of the waters on the wall…

Brought her thoughts back to the cups in front

The two grey mugs stood empty side by side.

Photo courtesy: Sudipta Das. Original post at: https://m.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10158078846773321&id=607658320&set=gm.1268512820209514&source=57&ref=m_notif&notif_t=feedback_reaction_generic 

First love

They never met for years. He found love, 

And she found the confidence in kindness. 

Roads not crossed, journeys bordered by myriad emotions, 

Responsibilities, betrayals and expectations.  

Love matured to perfection, flavoured in the old oak 

Soaked in tolerance and tested in commitments. 

And then she met him again. 

The years spent in distance, shared with endless words 

Thoughts familiar, descriptions galore, 

Laughter with the same melody! 

Fingers kept next to each other entwining in another space. 

Time travelled to the past 

Of the reticent girl melting in the raw seasons of adolescent love 

The hint of fear long faded from the love that persisted… 

Forgotten. 

Forgotten? 

His words like the jigsaw finished her thoughts still, 

That she learnt not to nip anymore. 

The curve of her smile reaching her eyes as she dreamt of his, 

Unashamed. 

A connection metamorphosed from love 

Extending beyond the tremulous kisses stashed away in the stairways 

Of her heart. 

Forgotten. Like the smell of the first rains!