Stop calling to me...I'll come when it's time. We were meant to be distant in this life. You have to wait for me....like I have to wait for you. You're in the afterlife...I can feel your pull...I've searched in vain for you...getting my heart broken in the most horrible ways possible...I'll be there...when it's time...wait for me...you have to...as do I..

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Her touch lingers
not on skin
but deeper
in the places even memory can’t erase

She’s not a chapter
she’s the ink
She’s not a moment
she’s the marrow

There’s more of her
in my veins
than blood
& I’d bleed forever
before letting her go!

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There is a corner of my heart, where I have set your shrine. Your every smile, every drop of tears, every promise, and every betrayal reside there with elegance. Our story reverberates against the walls, in tune with my heartbeat, which causes the other to be is hard to say....

yes, you exist, even though you don't exist...

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She was drenched in colors...holi did that. She was drenched in desire..his touch did that.
His hands felt her wet body all over...she liked that.
She melted like butter...his hand around her neck did that.

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When we justify the silence of God in the face of injustice, as our "past life karma", who are we to question the silence of humans in the face of tragedy?

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Sitting in a cafe i sometimes think about you. How you'd look, how you'd sound. I write poems on you without knowing you. Creation is just not about life. It's also about thoughts, of a being who doesn't exist, but is thought about.

Love is not about loving a physical being. Love is about loving the idea of that person...who may not exist. Yes...I write about you.

-

From the mouth of an old man the story was told,
Of that dark night, bitterly cold,
People slept that night never to awake, Death took them without prejudice, young and old,
Lucky ones died, the unlucky lived,
To live a life worse than death,
The reaper has no mercy,
He will take you, when the time is set.

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His tongue knew how to write a story on her skin....covering every curve....every fold...tasting every bit of her juices...her sweat....as her toes curled...and she grabbed the sheets in a mad frenzy...moaning his name...

-

There was something inviting about her neck...it could be bitten....it could be gripped by his hands....he needed her like an addict needs his drugs....he needed her smell...he needed her taste....he needed everything of hers....

-

The silence of the night was interrupted by a rhythmic sweet sound of body on body....as he clenched his hips...driving harder into her with every thrust....his face buried in her neck...smelling her raw scent....her nails displaying her lust with scratches on his sweaty back...

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