Flow.

December 5, 2013 § 4 Comments

They were in his car, kissing. It was a late August evening. They’d managed to find a secluded place in the otherwise crowded city. Somewhere they could express what was bursting inside them, in the form of hormones or love.

“Do you have any idea what are we doing?”, she asked him as he kissed her nape.

He stopped.
He looked into her eyes and said, “No, but I’m going with the flow. Do you want me to go with the flow?”

That very instant the radio played a Pink Floyd melody.
The next moment, she got naked.

Layer.

August 8, 2013 § 4 Comments

Layer by layer you took who i was.
Every word you spoke,
every sly tweet you wrote,
every time you touched;
something new came out of me.

A layer that i didn’t know existed.

Layer by layer you gave me all that was yours.
A new meaning to life,
cheeks that can’t stop blushing,
the intimacy;
added something to me.

A layer that made me all your’s.

Fingertips.

July 26, 2013 § 9 Comments

When I think about the
way your fingertips touch mine
And leave spots like an
autumn manicure in a daydream haze
I remember seasons of change,
seasons that came and went
Before the day the wind swept in
before the day you swept in.

I hope you stay, with fingers
crossed; entangled in yours. And
always caress these fingertips.

Us – II.

July 21, 2013 § 15 Comments

i felt the rush as you leaned in
to kiss these parched lips that
had longed for your touch all
these years. your tongue exploded
inside my mouth and made me
hungry for more.
your kisses traced the neck line
of my dress and sent shivers
down my spine. you grabbed me
closer as you ran your fingers
through my tangled hair.
your hot breath on my neck
and the helplessness with which
you give your all to me, left me
moaning and panting. i wanted more
of you. more of us. i forgot
rationality, practicality and my
self. and gave you all i have.
 
i exist only at places you touched
me last night.

Untitled (vii).

June 9, 2013 § 3 Comments

I feel your heart
pounding against my back.

In my ear
i hear your breath.

Your arms around
me are a safety net.

The night is
long and bright.

The world’s spinning
but we dont mind.

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On prose.

May 15, 2013 § 10 Comments

Prose is what happens when poetry cannot.

When a surging wave of inexplicable words takes over you.
When you are ready to look yourself in the eye without revealing yourself to the seer.
When you wish to drown in your thoughts and accept them, for once.
When you open your heart out to the reader and yet not let him read you.
When you cannot contain the depth of your depths.
When her golden brown hair leave a trail of desire on your bare chest.
When the ink from the pen spills even when you’re not writing.
When his naked skin touches your naked skin and sends shivers down your spine.
When the infinity of the sky is as meager as the abyss within which you dwell.
When the mere thought of him makes you soar.
When the wetness of words combined with your erect emotions makes you cum.

Prose is what happens when poetry cannot.

For Abhishek.

Sin.

April 29, 2013 § 23 Comments

When the roof in a room leaks
somewhere a poem is written
out of longing, despair or helplessness.

But there will be no rain tonight.
The moon spreads through her window
tonight and covers her in sin.

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