Your love.

You wrote pages and pages
About how much you love me
Lit them on fire
And said
This is what I'll do to your love

You took a wire scrub
Scraped it against a nonstick pan
Again and again
And said
This is what I'll do to your heart

You brought home a plant
Promised to take care of it
Never watered it
Let it die
And said
This is what I'll do to you

You painted a canvas
In a million different colors
Then splashed black paint on it
And said
This is what my love is like

And I
I collected the ashes
Of your love letter
I threw away the wire scrub
Painted the pan
I bought a new plant
Watered it every day
I let the paint dry
Put up the black painting on a wall

And I
I gave you all my love
So you could burn it all
I gave you my heart
So you could break it
I gave you my life
So you could end it if you wanted to
I gave you everything
Knowing I'll get nothing in return

Happy endings

‘And they lived happily ever after’

The author wrote

Scribbling ‘The End’

Right after

He then

Collected the sheets of paper

Covered in type-writer letter

Carrying a story of great delusion

Of love and happiness

And he stapled them together

Looked at the manuscript

His first and last novel

Facts twisted and distorted

Until all that remained were

Only the good

And not the truth

And he walked to the kitchen

Of his pol-athu pale

Rolled the paper

Of his story

Placed them neatly in the

Dara lipa

Lit them on fire

Boiled some water

Made some tea

Sipped it and pictured

What his life would be like

If there was a fairytale ending

Like his now burnt

Story did

Wish upon a (dead) star

Words stem from the deepest corners of our hearts and minds

And thus its natural to assume they are coated in truth

Yet, how much of our words are of fictional words

And how many are in fact of the mundane reality that is life?

So when I write about love, please believe me

Those are feelings that only exist in this world online

And no matter how many words I write,

The make-believe will never become reality

And an infinite time you may wish

Upon stars that died a million years ago

But your wildest dreams, the impossible

Will join stars in unreachable abyss

But dream and dream and love with an open heart

Because maybe there is a star that survived

And just one wish will be heard and granted

And the love you wish for will be more than fantasy

Faceless woman

A faceless woman
Stands behind glass
Clad in sari
In elegant pose
People look
Some stare
Others ignore
Or don't notice
But they breathe in
And they breathe out
Living and living
In their plain clothes
The faceless woman
Her sari glistened
Sequined border and
Deep neckline
But she doesn't see
The beauty of garment
For she's on display
And can't enjoy
But others do
In their ordinary clothes
For a moment envious of the
Sari-clad mannequin

Paper plane

If there were words to describe just how I feel

I would write them all to you

And you will struggle to read what they are

Because the ink will bleed into each letter

Connecting them like our hearts

And you will know exactly how I feel

But there are no words, no matter how hard I look

No dictionary contains the definition of my emotions

And so I give you a white blank page

A pen that hasn’t dropped a single drop of ink

And you look at paper crumpled

And see no words

So you give it back to me and walk away

Away, away

And I,

I can’t say a word

So all I do is watch you go

And with the white blank paper

I make a paper plane

That flies and flies

Away with my love

Today

There are days of

Frangipani showers

And pigeon orchid

Candles

Burning well into the evening

And on such days

When the queen of the night

Blows soft kisses my way

I know

Deep down in my heart that

The rose petal musings

Will be to naught

But that they will

Caress heart to assure me

That even when

Cactus storms

Throw apart this paper-thin world

A wallflower will

Hold hands with a gandapaana

And together

There will be flowered fireworks

Giving life to fireflies

That will set fire to the moon

love