Fake smile

I could say
In as many words,

I know this molten hurt
Like an old friend.

My heart
Is split in two,

I ain’t ready to kill it
I ain’t ready to pretend.

Your city wont be the same

Delhi is your city for me
You are leaving,
Whose city would it be?

I wouldn’t want to go there anymore
Its air would prick me
The places would go sour.

For all its history, walled and new
Why should I care
When it wouldn’t have you?

Either make it just another city for me,
Erase the past,
Or don’t leave Delhi..

Nostalgic

I wrote this a long time ago. While leafing through some of the poems on my previous blog, it gave an odd sense of deja vu..


Love, who?

Your touch
Lays bare the fire within,
I burn
On blackened embers of sin.

In shadows
Our whispers take shape,
Desire flows
From your lips to my nape.

Your hands
Rummage about reckless,
Hot trails
Of wanton madness.

I surge
Into you to cease,
A blank..
A void dug.. and peace.