The semicolon hours
of twilight,
before the night
stamps its authority
on an indefinite sun,
define the pregnant pause
of nature,
aptly reflecting
your indecisive opinion
on the future
of our relationship.

-

If you unlove me in the new morn,
sunrise starved, parched lawn ;
need you more, not the other way,
can just supplicate for you to stay.

Why don't you love me?
like dew drops love the thirsty leaf,
my love pines for your every layer ;
life lies in your nectarean flavour .

Your pregnant pause haunts,
life relegated to small fonts.

-

The pregnant pause
in a stuttering conversation,
spaces between words
that speak volumes,
they carry the burden
of matching reality
with unfulfilled expectations,
for those who catch
the subtle cries.

-