Genesis of your love

I kept turning and twisting.

To find
that comforting bump
in the feathery mattress.
I miss your arms.
The hollow of my waist
lies empty.
I miss the way
your arms
lay defenceless, not holding
but held.
A perfect fit.

To find
the softest corner
in the willowy pillow.
I miss your chest.
The hollow of my cheeks
lies empty.
I miss the way
your chest
rose in harmonious breathing
rhythmic to mine,
to cushion the hollows of my cheeks.

To find
the perfect curve
in the ‘other’ pillow.
I miss your back.
The heels of my palms
lay flat
across this plain terrain,
nothing to hold onto
to cling to.
I miss the way
your curves and the moulds
are made
to fill my empty hands
in an effortless embrace.

To find
the missing angles
in the tangles
of my bedsheet.
I miss your legs.
My legs fighting in vain
trying to fit
one on another.
No matter,
it cannot have the same angles
as your legs.

I kept twisting and turning
in the dark consuming night.
My body
among pillows, mattress and bedsheet
and yet alone.
Missing, aching for yours.

But all the pain
this missing has to offer,
my body will willingly suffer.
If only,
at the break of the dawn,
when I flicker
my lashes to clear
the hazy morning blur,
to find myself gazing in
your eyes.
The genesis of all the love
your body silently offers.

Interpreting Girl's Love

She loved with an innocence of a child
never weighed her words,
never thought they could be embroiled
into anything but song of birds.
Senselessly sweet
Carelessly tweeted

Her carefree expressions of love
moody anger or a naughty kiss,
never thought could be a shove
to your supreme patience.
Love-born
Shamelessly shown

Now they are twisted and turned
into a meaning to fit your needs,
butterflies that once flew are now churned
lying lifeless at the stake of her creed.
Beautiful-winged
Death-twined

Once so natural; baring her soul
to care, to love and to live for you,
now corrupted and conditional
expects more of its own dues.
Sparkling soul
Leisurely lulled

Eyes that once brilliantly shone
in the light of childish innocence,
now two hardened stones
only reflects worldly sense.
Mystifying woman
Forcefully brazen.

Answers That Do Not Solve

I used to believe if you love someone with all your heart, doubts disappear with one look into their eyes. And now I’m standing at the verge of my dying relation and all I want is few answers. Answer to few whys and whats. Today I’m not convinced with his simple apologies and guilty sad eyes. I want to know why, why he had been cruel to me. As if reasons will save our love, bring new hope. I doubt that. When my heart itself has lost trust in his promises, when his pain is no longer the center of everything, then how could answers make any difference as to what I feel? I need them to be able to justify my leaving; rather, in believing that I had been right to leave.
This ‘why’ has taken away my peace, my trust and my ability to love him unconditionally. It tortures me, instigates me to reminisce unfortunate moments. It has made my vision so obscure to see beyond few mistakes, to feel past few hurts. Why can’t I just make peace with the warm and beautiful memories? How can one overlook the cherished moments?

The need to know the answers is the strongest driving force in man. That’s what makes us intelligent. More intelligent I become, more reasons I gather. I can now branch out all the logical pathways from a problem leading to a solution. I thought it would give me stability. It did. It gave me the stability of my mind. But I never thought it would also bring the stagnancy in my heart. Knowing everything, analyzing it has robbed me of the charm of living. It took away the innocence in unraveling the little troubles of life.
When I was a kid, I fell off my bicycle. I skinned my knees and all I knew was that I couldn’t ride then coz it hurt. And when one day it didn’t hurt anymore, I took my bicycle out and rode it with same thrill down the lane. Since I could forget the pain of bruised knees, since I didn’t sit down to anticipate the possibility of getting hurt again; I could ride my bicycle again. I could relive the moment with same innocence; I could trust again; I wasn’t bothered with the answers of why-it-did and what-if-again.
But now since my brain has developed beautiful powers of remembrance and recall, I can look past the magical moment of being in love, knowing how it had sliced my heart once and how it can do so again.
Knowing all the answers may not necessarily solve everything. Let life unfolds itself on its own. Flow along; it’s better than sitting on the banks!