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The sensibility towards the association of emotions with everything that apparently seems petty is the prerequisite for establishment of longevity in connections

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On days like this
I pray a little harder to him
for your love 💝
Through letters of complexities
he has been detangling since years....

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and the stem still dared
to look for the sun.
The roots held on tighter,
till the fall bid closure.
The leaves this time curled up in snow
Making the buds go wilder
what bloomed now
brought blue butterflies
flapping wings of rejuvenation

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the impostors within us
with her arms wide open
seeing us shedding all fabrications
for once and all
enabling us to hear the rythms of
our pretty little hearts
hushed long back;
Jammed with promising melodies..
"Old enough for this earth to recall"
"Soft enough for this hustle to
validate at all."

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These eyes grew bags waiting
for a single glance of you
So did these fingertips helplessly feeling
the spaces between us
Shedding unknown tears,
panting heavily , feeling intoxicated
with your fragrance
dragging me away
from those lonely crowds
Making me feel your presence
Every now and then
For we have always been under the same sky
that made you a part of me
And here I am
Waiting for you to return
in hope to ask for your forgiveness
"My almighty" with the kind of love
That lives.💓

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These lips now shiver
Which once
held the burden of
her darkest truths
and twisted deeds
for as long they could

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I put down the blinds
restricting the light
sitting there still
with eyes closed tight enough
to avoid the mildest feel of it
Exausted enough to fall asleep;
ending up dreaming about
those Hazel eyes at last,
with warmth determinant enough to
make me smile
,reassembling drops of honey
with a lush green undertone
Sending me chills from within
While we rest beside one another
Locking up eyes ,
tight enough to sync up blinks
These eyes are such a muse , I said
untangling my self control

*A lingering silence was all I could hear, following was a helpless smile*

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Plenty of butterflies revolve around entities, drenched in their aroma; the way bees humm around some crushed flowers.
.
The cracks of these souls still emit sparkles in lust for the fireflies, that don't go blind even in the darkest nights....

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A handful of sand
with grains escaping the clutch.
the way time passes ,
conveying no depart.
And jeez!! these silly ants
are they way too many???
or it's me ;
'feeling old wounds
time and again?'

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