A Solo Smile

What I wonder. What are you thinking, I was asked. For I was lost apparently. What was I thinking? My mind has found a beautiful destination to which it escapes every chance it gets. You. I often find myself thinking about you. I want to know if you sleep with your mouth open or closed, or if you even sleep at all. You have got me thinking about what kind of dreams you have, and do you often sit for 10 minutes trying to string the pieces of the dreams that you remember. I often wonder what you wonder about when you look at me, or what to you wonder about while looking at the single ray of light coming from the crack in the bathroom door on a cold dark night. I want you to tell me about light, the one in your eyes, what makes your eyes shine, money, passion or love. And do they still shine or did you lose their lustre to this dark world? Tell me, about dark as well, are you afraid of it, or do you find pleasure in its unbecoming. Become, what is it that you wanted to be...

I looked at him for one long moment, And thought, One day I'd write about him. Not in the way Neruda described his mistress with graphic detail of her face and hair, Not even in the way Poindexter wrote about his lover fathoming her as the source of all beauty on the earth. The world knows he's a beauty, inching his way to the physical perfection. But that's not what i want to write about him. It's how I think of lights when I think of him, Yellow and Distant. Glowing till Glory. But also, how I think of dark when I think of him, Silent and soothing. Where all colours are one. It's how I associate with him with music, Not because god gifted it to him, But because he gifted it to me. Holding my hand and leading me to the language of stars. It's how being with him feels like being lost, Not in a forgetting your way to go home way, But in not being wanting to be found way. It's how i laugh when i am with him With all my heart, with all the a...

Over used words It is the most arduous task to describe him For there are too many feelings and just 24 alphabets. For the complex flow of emotions is not able to find an outlet in words. For too splendid words have been generously overused And the words like beautiful or perfect would not convey him to you. For the word "perfect" in its most majestic form is not enough to describe you For I have put far too many hours trying to capture your face in my eyes For I have spent far too many moments learning your voice And "perfect" is too easy a word. It doesn't do justice to my love. How can I call him beautiful When the same word is used by endless humans countless times in a day? For he is something that happens once in a lifetime. He is the feeling you get when you find your favourite book in an empty library The sudden coolness when the heat finally breaks at 4AM on a hot night. Or sitting in the balcony with wind in my hair and a smoke on ...

A failed description of my inspiration. Let me write to you about smiles How it crawls it's way to my lips when he is around. Let me write to you about heartbeats And how their rhythmic movement falters when he laughs. Let me write to you about eyes How they see what the world cannot perceive Let me write to you about time And how much I want it to stop when we kiss Let me write to you about kisses And how they say what we never can speak Let me write to you about him And how I'd fail every time because I can never describe him. Let me write to you about my helplessness For the most beautiful of words fall on their knees admitting defeat Let me write to you about happiness And how it is in him Let me write to you about grief And how I can never be his.

Her Love, The word which has haunted poets for centuries now, What is love? I won't squander time trying to describe love, But I'd rather tell you about a lady. She was the aesthetic beauty on whom sonnets and ballads could be written, She was so alluring that I could spend hours trying to sum her up in worldy words only to fail miserably She was the most hauntingly beautiful girl I've ever seen, and that was least interesting thing about her. For you know, she was like a jar of fireflies, Captivating when kept together Mesmerizing when one escapes. She was like the last train on the station She came when i had lost all hope And she carried me to the most beautiful of destinations. She was like the smile of a stranger Inquisitive at first, But was definitely worth the risk. She was like that lonely cigarette Knowing that it would always be there To smoke away the pain. She was the packet of my favorite chocolate Making me smile at the least possib...

I was so sure I loved you I  was so sure I loved you, Even when my eyes earlier which blurred around you, starting seeing the world clearly. Even when the chirrupy butterflies you put in my stomach, became quiet and eventually escaped. Even when my mind which was so fixed on you stopped thinking about you, Even when my heart which bounced on your name forgot to miss you, Even when your words once so captivating lost their meaning Even when your eyes which shined for me lost their luster Even when our kisses lost their passion Even when the conversation once effortless started to become forced, Even when your hands didn't find mine anymore Even when your body forgot my touch, Even when my soul forgot your love. I still thought I loved you, I still thought that those 'forevers' weren't hollow, Yet when I saw you today I realized some forevers don't last forever. But I still think I loved you.