?????....

Have you encountered love?
What is it like? Is it an intense,
unsaid conversation in a lift packed
with strangers? Is it smileys sent over chat?
A lingering stare albeit a guarded one when
she isn't looking? Is it concern when there is
silence at the other end of the line?
Is it melancholy? Is it hope, so tiny, it could slip
between your fingers and disappear forever?
Is it patience? What does it feel like? Does it feel
like a thousand pins pricking your arm when she
chooses another over you? Does it melt
your knees and stir your loins and make you want
to explode? Or is it a lever that unlocks
your deepest, most guarded dungeons?

Maybe love is all of it. Or none of it.
But love has found you, hasn't it? It has
stirred you, disoriented you. And trust me. This could
only mean one thing. That you cannot turn back now.
That you must see it through. And whether you win
or lose in the end, it wouldn't matter. Because by then,
you would have found love too.

She is beautiful...

                                        She is stardust leaving sweet bones in her wake. 
                                                      A trail of poetic destruction
                                conceived in verse--answering questions with kisses. 
                                    There is a hunger in her freckled constellations,
                                like spider webs woven together with golden thread.
                                        Like the wild roses she braids in her hair:
                                      She walks back-boned and head held high;
                           the strongest of letters on a page left to rest in your mouth.

Just mistakes

What would it be like
If I was still me
And You were still You
And I and You
Were still us?

Would the skies be bluer?
Would the hills be greener?
As they were
When I and You were together?

When we weaved lovely dreams
Lived fantasies like they were real
Held hands
Like we'd never let go...

Promises promises...
All's lost
Past

We were just mistakes
Each others...

You mine and me Yours.

Desire

Desire is hiding within a blank page,
near a mugger’s knife,
or a bowl of flowers.
Near the green shaded valleys of the unknown,
or the struggling alleys of the dark.

I traded my desire for love,
and got shot dead by a tiger posing as a butterfly.