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Crossing the Rubicon !

With the advent of flames, traced back to you. The dreams that beget pain and inexplicable tranquility. And I see you standing in dense mist-in a place inaccessible, isolated and every few nights shattering my cozy, oblivious sheaths of escapist solitaire by your resounding echoing laugh, your wicked twitch of eye, your subtle brushing of a random, stray strand of hair and then smiling again, delving me further deeper into the vertigo of nothingness, where I lose my existence and burn and incinerate into cinders that buoyage forth into deep grey skies painted with my sense of loss, in quest of you. WHERE ART THOU? Lost? Oblivious to Love? Now I know why stars burn. Every night, they too lost their beloved-comets who went on their quest leading those stars alone. Shame and guilt over-rides a Comet's mind or heart (if she has any).The reason why the tail of a comet always faces away from the stars. I know you've got nothing to do with whatever is written here, yet so en
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The only thing

Image Copyright  - Ankur Anand On the bedside table. Holy like your promises. unchanged, Is a photograph Of you and me. Through the cobwebs of time. I still can see. the love Distant as echo, Yet it makes me smile. It sits there in the cheap wooden frame. The only thing in the house, Still ours.

Wanderlust You !

The lines on a map trace out, Like pronoia seeps in veins under my skin, You bit me with your forget-me-not hazel eyes And now I'm poisoned with constellations, It makes sense though. Where you are, Is where every road in my body leads to. P.S - I am sorry to every one of you, really finding it hard to be in sync with corporate life and blogger life.

Sense Of Love !

Love may not arrive tomorrow, Or today or in between the question, and answer pause  I’m not sure how long it takes, Or whether it come all at once, or piece by piece I only know the one, Wrapped around your hazel eyes Where you hold a day, Fill it with a lifetime and still have room for tomorrow.

Footprint !

I tried to let my heart, rest it's wings but it always start to wiggle and jiggle hearing you in the shimmer of the silence, feeling you in the space between white lines never looking away from your eyes holding a card, a little longer than it should, for i am yours and you who questions why wondering about what you have left behind that i hold "the footprint" all angels leave a mark on this world yours are made by guiding me home, inside my fragile bones

Spoonful Words

I want to write you words that are greater than the sum of your victories, and less than the sum of my mistakes. Words that can be seen from the city's skyline and from the harbor that I call home because I don’t have grant gesture to show you how much I care about you perhaps I’d never have. Words that can withstand any distance put between them, because they are true with sincerity that still feel you even in the space between these white spaces. Words that are strong enough for both of us to live by or maybe just for me I want to write you words that exist in my head and my heart right now, but will soon become only my to keep yet I don’t know how to write to you. I want to ensemble sentences that will fix the flux of emotions you felt, and passages that can connect two lonely dots that will live too far apart from each other on a world map, how everything is different with you, how my own heart fill the air yet makes space for you between each one call while my head l

Oral Waves !

Even in those moments where loving yourself seems like the hardest thing in the universe, I need you to remember this, I will love you fiercely when you feel like you least deserve it, quietly when you make mistakes, boldly when time slips like sand between your kissed fingers, madly in your nomadic forms, truly when you feel like broken, across every tectonic plates and surpass time zones picking up the broken pieces, on every tattered edge, because I say your name with hope in my chest. I know loving you is sometime very hard, but I promise I will always, because your smile ripples my fragile bones.

Ceasefire violating Contour !

Like a  Sunday  morning your smile respirate a galaxy of warmest color that sheets a tangled weave of letters, that i replay in my head, somnolently in late night;smiling, it creates a sandstorm- tempest of the binding whispers of the moment when our eyes used to meet, folding me into a jungle of minutes for  bewildered  reactions of blink slanted sight, and then again rising like repetition, like respiration with concertina tapping back to chests, bolting out my lungs, like an asphyxiant in sweet favors whisper with glorious release in the pleasure of your grip.