That night some rain conspired
and stole clouds from your sky
to pour down on me.
Love is what turns a why to a how.
So you never questioned.
I drenched, wondered, wandered.
Window is an escapade for poetry.
And my decor is un-weak.
So in our world there are only rooms.
Doors can be latched,
Unlike your memories and my emotions.
I haven't let them yet.
We can cook up love, is it?
Moments are kept in spice jars.
Never mix them while they are there.
It may smell.
I will bring you fire.
Burn.
Let us go deep.
Here is the bed where
A platonic you meets a real me.
Chiffon hesitance may rest,
We will only whisper tonight.
Beneath this, there is a grave
which lies as a witness to many a sobs.
Never visit there with naked feet.
You will at once know its our dark
that I have still preserved.
Ask me why.
An irrelevant me will answer,
Even our saddest moments were too special
to let go by.
Do not plant a kiss yet.
We have no doors.
SoUmY@
and stole clouds from your sky
to pour down on me.
Love is what turns a why to a how.
So you never questioned.
I drenched, wondered, wandered.
Window is an escapade for poetry.
And my decor is un-weak.
So in our world there are only rooms.
Doors can be latched,
Unlike your memories and my emotions.
I haven't let them yet.
We can cook up love, is it?
Moments are kept in spice jars.
Never mix them while they are there.
It may smell.
I will bring you fire.
Burn.
Let us go deep.
Here is the bed where
A platonic you meets a real me.
Chiffon hesitance may rest,
We will only whisper tonight.
Beneath this, there is a grave
which lies as a witness to many a sobs.
Never visit there with naked feet.
You will at once know its our dark
that I have still preserved.
Ask me why.
An irrelevant me will answer,
Even our saddest moments were too special
to let go by.
Do not plant a kiss yet.
We have no doors.
SoUmY@
Comments
Chiffon hesitance may rest,
We will only whisper tonight."
beautiful poem!
And so are we drawn to this surreal emotion thru' that which you paint with your words!
Moving experience, this one. A bit melancholic, but at the same time strangely filling, and comforting! Having no doors yet, I know. It is that window that keeps me going!
Tamarind, your affectionate observation is no less!