woodpeckers

what do a woodpecker, an eskimo, a butterfly, a spiderman, a lizard, a fish, and a mistletoe have in common? only some of the many million ways we had learnt to kiss, our mouths moving in perfect harmony to each other's tunes.
remember how we had perfected the synchronization of such weird eccentric kisses but realized it only several nights later, at 1 in the night, or maybe 2, legs entwined under the blankets, your fingers running through my hair. An eskimo for an eskimo, a butterfly for the butterfly, fish for the fish. we were so perfect it was funny.
"Don't laugh"
"Why not?"
"it's incredibly amazing, most people never get to feel this"
you smiled.
*woodpeckers*

Making love to you was like a local train journey, starting slow, gradually picking speed and suddenly we start leaving everything behind..rickety iron bridges, rivulets, patches of gulmohars, kids playing in the backyard, paddy fields, graffiti walls, dogs chasing, you swerve me in your arms and spin the world around me. Pause. Everything else around is a blur.

it was two in the night and i was inconsolable, heart broken yet again. and then you did the most amazing, the most magical thing.
you made me laugh.
do you still wonder why i love you to the moon and back?

the right wrong person

We’re all seeking that special person who is right for us. But if you’ve been through enough relationships, you begin to suspect there’s no right person, just different flavors of wrong. Why is this? Because you yourself are wrong in some way, and you seek out partners who are wrong in some complementary way. But it takes a lot of living to grow fully into your own wrongness. And it isn’t until you finally run up against your deepest demons, your unsolvable problems—the ones that make you truly who you are—that we’re ready to find a lifelong mate. Only then do you finally know what you’re looking for. You’re looking for the wrong person. But not just any wrong person: it's got to be the right wrong person—someone you lovingly gaze upon and think, “This is the problem I want to have.”
I will find that special person who is wrong for me in just the right way. ―Andrew Boyd

slumber parties

Its not him.

Maybe its only your desire

to love and be loved.
He's a muse.

Reading copious amounts of poetry is giving you butterflies in the stomach and raising goosebumps on your skin like you’re a teenager all over again.

You try to take your mind off of him, smoking and dancing to the music playing in your head.

You’re nervous and fidgety, constantly jumping and talking nonsensical cutesy stuff because you cannot handle this teenager any longer.

You look at his hands, they’re wanting to be held.

Your toes poke his calf muscles while you sit in a crowded corner of the room.

That’s the most physical contact you are ever going to get with him.

(You think).

You've been told

that if you repeat a word

over and over

it loses its meaning

So you stay up

countless nights

repeating his name

hoping

that he will mean less to you

with each breath.

summer afternoons

if I wrote you a poem
and rode my bike to your house
because I wanted to give it to you
while it was still warm,

would your door be open?

Would you smile for days?

Me: Knock-Knock!

You: Who is it?

Me: To.

You: (paused and smiled) To whom?

And you wondered how I fell in love with you, deeper, every single day.

christmas wasn't merry and new year wouldn't be happy
with you

the art of self deprecation

when i get a compliment, I always turn the cheek, 
batting it away like it doesn't belong to me. 
Over the years I've learnt to feign a thank you on internet and phone 
but if you say it to my face, i just don't hear it

you may think my smile is the cutest, my eyes the brownest  
or even write poems about the curve of my legs or the sculpted shoulders, 
i may not argue but in my heart i would still brush them off as kind yet silly remarks 
silently blaming the lights, makeup or an eye defect

If i assembled a space rocket, i'd say even a child could've done it. 

I'm a mess and will always be.

between 1:20:09 and 1:20:10

what occupies the moment of silence between the hand of a clock ticking from one second to the next?

an image of you comes to mind, only teeth.  just by the way your cheeks accordion out around the edges of your mouth, i can tell there is a lightness in your eyes-- a reflection of the sun, i think it is. like a glimmer of light that clings to your skin underwater, how even when you pinch your nose closed and close your eyes to go under, it repositions itself to a spot never touched. or maybe it stays in the same place because you didn't take a deep enough breath and you come right back up, laughing with slugs of hair dripping over your eyes, ready to try again.

i have an image of you
on a warm day in july--
full of teeth,
full of teeth,
somewhere outside 
of time.


i miss your smiling face love

too much baggage

caffeine

have you ever felt sadness at 3am? 
knowing your love once lost and found will be lost again?
tears rolling down those bambi eyes, unfinished poems brewing in the heart.

its hard to ignore how you're perfect; you who's willing to be my everything. anything. 
darling, you're right when you say i will fall in love again but you're not if you think i'll stay in it; 
i know its unfair but i'll always end up comparing. 
it's always going to be you.

superman zero jeeralal, you should be awarded with a nobel peace prize for being totally immune to all my desperate attempts to pick a fight with you. you make the terrorist inside me feel like i'm using a mini water pistol on a man armed with bazooka love. 
handsdown you've got to be the most stubborn lover that ever existed on the face of this earth. 


i strut around feeling blessed for being chosen to experience this awesomeness of your love; this absolutely pure rare kind of love that most people never see or feel or even hear about their whole fucking lives. 
this what i got right now is magnanimous.
if i die right now i would die a happy girl. 
dying is easy.
its living without you that's gonna be fucking damn hardest.

You see, those few seconds where you drive under the overpass while it's raining and suddenly everything is so still? you were just like that.

You and I, that’s my most brilliant plan yet.
And it's raising goosebumps on my skin in the form of braille in a language that only you know

amber's

sometimes when i cry i don't bother
to wipe my tears. i want to think i’m in a scene in a movie
and my tears are crystals and my eyes are
bambi.

forest fires are the doing of crazy lovers like you and i

let us go to the park 

so you can call me beautiful

and i'll let my heart blush out of my chest.

give me a piggy back and spoil me

even when i insist i'm not tired;

and when we fall

we'll lie on the green grass

and let the sun wrap our souls.

let us go to the beach 

so you can see the sun kiss my bronze skin

and set in the brown of my eyes.

taste the sea salt from my mouth

and when night comes

make love to me in the shack

our moans drowning

in the din of the crashing waves.

red

watching you button up your shirt

and listening to the sound of water gulping down your throat

so sexy.

our slow walks in my bosky neighbourhood

on roads lined with gold medallions

filled with broken twigs, dried leaves and plumerias

so romantic.

I pick a flower and playfully tuck it behind your ear.

mon cheri

so cute.

we walk like nomad for hours

so slowly the warm wind rushes past my body and somehow i don't wan't to chase it

no more.

the mad river has finally met her sea

sylvia

although it was love at first sight,

we aren't sylvia and ted, darling

you won't cheat on me

or marry someone else

(coz you love me so)

and i will never need anti depressants;

for my heart will never be clenched by an owl's talon

(coz you love me so)

i will never be seized by the irrational compulsion

of putting my head in the oven

or leaving our (imaginary) kids desolate

(coz you love me so)

you give me everything i can ever want

everything she ever wanted, but never got

i pity sylvia, 

i wish she had met you.

hindi wala pyar

sukhi sukhi laagey baarish

gili gili laagey dhoop

shaayad humidity kuch zyada hai saiyaan :D

flamingo kisses

but darling,

mon chéri,

when you kiss me in the night rain

with the glow of the sodium vapor lamp on your skin

(or is it happiness?)

and i see your eyelids, 

ever fluttering

blinded by our love & raindrops

i hop on a leg 

and jump once more in the puddle
(splashh)

(i'm) flamingo legged 

& shy

so kiss me again 

oh me oh my

you and i

you are

maddeningly sweet

infinitely kind

shockingly sexy

nauseatingly cute

surprisingly stylish

and i am

hopelessly romantic

for you

zenpencils i loove

secrets

"Tell me a secret"

love makes me wet

"No way."

All I have is a heart, its nothing but a giant heart inside,
I think I lack my stomach and liver and intestines.

"Why not?"

the intensity of my love might scare you (away)

"I can't."

I've been broken far too many times,
the reason i'm on cigarettes, coffee and cheap wine 
an ever so slight tap would be enough to crash and burn me forever 

"I'll find out."

the brown of my eyes becomes browner in tears

"Tell me a secret"

My heart is siezed by love yet again

(Inspired)