Monday, 6 March 2017

Don't Hurt My Kiss

Don't hurt my kiss lying on your windowsill
So what if she turns lazily in her sleep
And half-heartedly claims what she knows
Is not hers for all time to come?

Wet, warm tears might be oceans of storm 
She dreams of being the river that yields
Blue-green sarees, vermillion memories
Treasured arms holding onto
hopskipping tomorrows; sweet nothings

So go on and sink your teeth on her lower lip
Her thirst, and deepest sins are all but
Yours to take for all time to come
Cards and keys into a bitter sweet world 
One that is at once one's and owned by none



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