The poetic journey of knowing you
Captioned down here.

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Captioned for you.

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At 3 am
I realised how it is to be
between the deep slumber night
and the calling sun rise,
and it
is like the way
I feel at times
when I think of you
and the smile is moderated
with hundreds of noises and people
around me
yet I hear the voice
that once calmed me.

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And then of course ,
they all depart
from our stories ,
one by one,
dying feelings ,
acted smiles
and at a point,
giving no closure.
Thus giving birth
to a poet.

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I know you find me
in the scribbled part
of your notebooks
I know you see me
in the lines of your poems
I know you miss me
when you think of the beaches
that we once thought to embrace
together.
I know, you still seek me
I know you still find me.

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You are like the scent of weathered books,
And rain that stirs the sleeping plains.
A breath of earth, a balm for wounds,
A touch that gentles all my pain.

Your skin holds light like ripened wheat,
Your smile,a calm in sun and rain.
You walk with grace the world forgets,
So simple, yet too rare to name.

You chose me not for gold or guise,
But saw my soul and stayed the same.
For that, I hold you close each day
A quiet joy I cannot tame.

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Let's dance on our hellos
And drink wine at our laughter
Sing songs at our eye contact
and sleep deep when we hug
tighter.

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The souls touched when you came closer
And started breathing near my neck.
I slid my fingers through your
pretty long hair and you parked your face
on my chest.
The heart pumped faster
in love, the rhythm like music
of togetherness.
The eyes met the eyes
and the blood rushed
to win the race of happiness.

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I grew up
without the caveat
of losing every safety net
like shedding old skin.
I grew up
unknown to the world
that waited all this while
to show me the rough side.
I grew up
flummoxed to the fact
that money actually buys
happiness.

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Every incomplete poem
on my notepad
had captured my efforts
to keep our love
blooming.
I wrote it all with my
shivering fingers, that flowed
in the rivulet of memories
that we both germinated
under our heart's warmth.
Yet, it all now stands,
incomplete and shattered,
like the scenery of a ghost town.

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