It Hasn't Burnt Me Alive

He says he has noticed a change. 

He says the fire doesn't burn as fiercely as it used to. 

He says it's not the same as before. 

And I don't know what to tell him. 

What to tell him apart from the fact that when he puts his hand on either sides of my face, 

the room fades away. 

And when he looks into my eyes, 

I don't want to blink, 

I don't want to miss a second of his gaze. 

I don't know what to tell him. 

How to tell him that his arms make the coziest of pillows and his hug the warmest of blankets. 

And counting his steady heartbeats Is the quickest way to fall asleep. 

I don't know how to tell him. 

How to tell him that his oblivious face while sleeping makes me want to be the person he is dreaming about. 

And how just watching him sleep becomes the most exciting of tasks. 

I mean how do I tell him that when it's 3AM and my sleep breaks a little. 

And in that half languid state, I feel you besides me. 

I smile and I hug you tighter, and that's when you pull me closer too. 

Declaring to the night, "till day do us apart".

 

I have no means of telling you that I have never gotten so lost in a kiss before. 

My hands can't bring you any closer and my lips can't get enough. 

I taste you and realise how I have been starving all day, all my life. 

I don't know what to tell him. 

How to tell him that how I would'nt give two hoots if the world stops working tomorrow. 

If the government gets overthrown or if the rupee falls or the economy crashes. 

How I can spend the rest of my life, in a room. 

With him. With nothing. With everything. 

I don't know how to tell him that I have kissed before. 

That I have loved before. 

But it hasn't burnt me alive.