-

city-sounds drowned
by the pelting rain,
the night plays on like an
unplugged song on loop.

(continued in caption)

-

clouds of your desire
trespass my horizon;
this rain is a prisoner
of our love.

-

Fasted Hearts: A Short Story

Somewhere, she would be retiring to bed at the end of a lonely night, taking along with her the last of the dawn-dissolving arc of the sacred moon that burned at her window all night; reminding of him and reflecting sharply from promises of love that their families left fasted in them forever.

At the same time, in his world, somewhere else, he would be awake - showered, dressed in new clothes and headed to the Salaat. Kneeled onto the mausoleum floor, his breath one with the holy enchants, he would be bending the lines on his outstretched palm; seeking her face behind his closed eyes and letting his faith take him to a place where everyone forbid.

To her. Through prayers and wishes. Crossing religious limits in love without calling for riots.

Isn’t love, after all, our honest potential to seek someone truly, every time we commit ourselves to the remembrance of God??

Eid Mubarak!!

-

Pacific of Desire

With a wink,
you let the
robe slip from
your shoulders.
And I gape
at a sparkling
bead of water,
furrowing down
your seashore back.

(Full poem in caption)

-

Let's say,
we met how
the earth meets
a shooting star.

A bit of
you broke,
a whole of
me burnt.

-

You loved me
With a pain
Far greater
Than the longing
Of my reality.
So I rode this life
With you;
To feel death
In its most beautiful form.

-

Time
is a
magician;
and
its trick,
life.

-

You cannot really define love until you arrive at a nothingness in your life and then somehow feel rescued.
That rescue, perhaps, is the indefinable.

-

We are never quiet, you know. Silence is but the attribute of the dead. And because we are alive and in love, even in the respective quietness of our heartbreaks, I know you are perfectly speaking and I am patiently listening. Be it to the noiseless drop of your tear on the pillow or the hushed whisper of my apologies.
We are always speaking. In a language we seem to know the best. 😊

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