Thursday, May 26, 2011

this is a desert


take my skin first,
strip it away
layer by dry layer,
slowly, i want to feel the pain.
and let the sun
separate the red,
until the sands are thirsty no more.
let the dry northerly winds,
blow away strands that hold
these hollow bones,
so white these bones,
see how easily they crumble,
but will you read what's inscribed
by his quill first?
mannami goyam aanal haq,
mannami yaar ni goyak vigo,
you own me, my blue one,
but won't claim me,
send me copies of yourself,
who don't wish to claim me either.
but am still here on this path,
where a peacock feather lies
a careless clue of you.
am still here,
because the ceaseless wind
brings a refrain of your breath
from a hollow bamboo
sometimes.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

in pink


you should not be so obvious
my blue one, in your gloating.
because i stand here smitten
by you smelling of juhi flowers.

all you had to do is ask.

you know i would leave everything
and show up at your doorstep,
windblown hair, heart on my sleeve,
hungry to see your smile.
i'm easy, you think,
gullible even,
malleable, like silly putty.
and still you weave an elaborate plot
have the ticket clerks in not one
but three multiplexes
tell me friday first shows are all booked!
making me believe,
i am lucky to simply walk up to your temple.
you think i don't know your tricks?
you think i don't know how much
you're missing me?
how much you need me
to be standing here,
looking slightly foolish,
and so totally lovelorn?

all you had to do is ask.

btw. you look good even in pink.