night 1

dear love, how cold you are
perfect foil to my hot exhausted body,
i prefer this commune under the stars,
so sharp so blue, as if someone
had stabbed holes into the floor of heaven.

i like it because you are silent,
i like kissing your mouth
at once firm and vulnerable,
and a bit blue on the edges.

there are shadows beneath your eyes,
but i like kissing them just as i did before,
shivering with pleasure
when my lips touch your spiky lashes.

it’s good to have you all to myself.

the moon is hiding as well,
we are alone here on the thirteenth fairway,
unashamed of the unremarkable brownness
of my naked body lying next to yours,
so pale and magnificent,
so hard and unyielding,

i allow a sigh to disturb
this companionable silence,
it will be years before they call you topsoil.

love poem 2

little things about you i like to keep:

the way your hair curls upon your neck
when you throw your head back and laugh,

how my glasses slide off my nose and yours don’t,
'it’s a noble nose!' my aunt always says,

your large hands on the steering wheel,
i love the way they feel on the small of my back,

i am so glad for the pickling lessons,
grandma insisted i take as a teen.
i have made good use of the jam jars
she stocked in the garage
hoping the mango would yield some day.

your nose still looks as sharp in vinegar,
and your hands still look clean,
but your heart remains as black as ever.

but best part is that look in your eyes,
when i raised the ginsu,
on that dappled afternoon by the stream.

does not fit in any jar but is fresh even today
perfectly preserved in my head.

love poem 1

my fingers ache to soothe
the flyaway hair on your neck,
and when you reassure me
we’re not speeding,
i simply close my eyes,
and let the bike embrace the wind.

you never read a map,
and i always know the way,
but this time i let you guide me
to download love songs off the net.

smitten with him? you ask.
i want to say, yes moron, with you.
but i laugh and let it be.

not yet, not yet. my fingers are crossed
let me enjoy this for a bit longer
it’s my moment. don’t want to give happiness
some one else’s address.

i’m collecting pictures for later,
i explain on gtalk.
magic seeds i plant now for later,
when you’re mature and i've learnt to feel
instead of thinking so much.

i stab at the keyboard to reach you
hope you will walk to me
just as i picture you walking to meet me.
and then watch me exhale.