if love, stands a belief
I'd be an atheist.

and there...
in a distant room
of broken silence
of fallen jasmines
of withered letters.

I'd pour down, myself
to melt in, moulded and framed

it shall read :
the heart was tender!

-

• || 3 a.m. || •

(the muse in caption)

-

-

at times, take a pause and dive in tunes of bruises
to your withered soul, just let the scars do the healing.

-

The ones who don't
just text you a "take care"
but actually take care
of the fact that you do,
are v. v. v. v. v. precious.

-

"bAbA"

-

• | SILENCE |•


of when the silence
with its awe
holds up a twinkling show
there as patrons,
we sit, waiting
for the turn to twirl,
under the stars
dimming soft, in eyes
cloaking haze that creeps,
lashes coinciding, pupils astray
venturing into the breeze,
unaware
so much so, never thought
we'd end up painting butterflies.

-

and dimples you see, are just little flaws
worthy of shimmering beauty,
because that what they consort, is a smile.

-

-

'that book on the last shelf'

-