On the night of November,
Our alignment was knotted—
Strings of strangers bound by an origin unknown.
The moon stood as a hidden witness, exalting,
Keeper of the secrets between us.
And all clotted tenderness dissolved,
Flowing like the first rays of sun,
Canvassing effortlessly across the body.

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His heart bore the foetus of grief from a wounded past,
While hers bled in the waters of his love.

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Just like absence at work means loss of daily wages,
Absence of you meant losing a little of you every day.

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The tree of love—
Yet the world admires only the fragile, neonatal branches…
But the roots of origin remain hidden and guarded,
Embedded deep within the soil of emotions: long nights, rains, waits, and tears.

Still, the world seeks the budding insecurities on this tree of love,
Branches with no roots,
Watered instead by the greed of the world,
Trying to make them appear greater than the parent tree.

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Why do eyes express more than lips?

While words wander through many filters,
the eyes… filter far less.

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Detoxing the toxin of the past
drains the body, the brain, the blood—
so why does the heart remain untouched?

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He speaks in codes, I breathe in cures…
Together?
Codes crashed, cures failed—

yet somehow, that failure became the most beautiful cure.

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He pointed at the twin peaks of the mountains,
claiming they were Us—
unshakable, constant, intertwined and united.

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My intuition grew stronger as you entered—
even my spiritual body surrendered to your mystical eyes.

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kindness feel like an out-of-world experience in today’s world!

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