Jaded

I surged towards the sand
Time and again,
But it failed to soak me in.

Your spell

Images dance across my silent canvas,
The backlog of my unwritten thoughts:

Your voice,
How perfectly it hugs my name
I almost smile, helplessly numb.

The elusive sensation of touch
Beyond the physical
That you evoke.

You flirt with my *Dancing Princess,
Wave a few stars aside
And make room for us.

Somewhere along the way
I must’ve slipped you the key to reach me,
I see you opening the door.


*Dancing Princess is a constellation I made. She can be seen this time of the year flowing her ball-gown in the eastern sky.

the sky is full of stars
i hope that some are mine
but when i stretch out my hand
they shrink and break apart
disintegrate
and i shrink back
afraid to hope again
and break again.

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.