And..

Sometimes I wish that people were just minds
And not bodies.
Because that's what she is to me.
Just a thought, whom I rarely meet in person.
Imagine my feelings,
I have a body and I'm in love with a thought.
Don't I think, it's easier,
To slowly get over the romance with a body.
But you're in my mind,
How can I touch that?
To love,
I need a heart,
But that's just keeping me alive
So that this mind doesn't stop loving you.
Then what's the use of my skin and bones,
Where do I fit in?

That's why I wish, people were just minds

And not bodies.

~Shaxeb S.

A rough Illusion..

End us else bring us to unite
weld us with eternal fire .
By nature, we both burn outside,
inside, by elusive desire.
One, lit in the name of duty
crying molten hope as it dies.
In love with the insect's beauty
and a life span till the morn skies .
One, the flame loving flying flash
distantly romancing the wick
'cos touch shall prematurely crash
a love meant to be platonic .

Divine chastity! Lets call this
E'en a closer look's a death kiss!

The Candle and the Firefly

Possibly, Perhaps

The first feeling was not all pivotal,
poets falling for beauty, is but natural.
Like the return of summer in hiver,
like the word of love on the lips of a lover.

But just like wet hiver can reprise
drowning the sunshine in the depths of ice
or simply what he told her on bent knees,
could be words of a lover who loves lies.

My earliest words could have been fiction,
false, partial truth, poetic addiction.
But now that I’ve read your mental beauty,
naked truth I express in penned diction.

Your mind is like water and I feel thirst
I expose to you, since feeling is first.

Surely Maybe

The sand stuck to my feet
Will wash away in the morning.
But the aftermath of your perfume
Will blend with my blood and remain.

The remnant of the tides on my corduroys
Tomorrow’s sun will warm and dry.
But the subtle warmth of your fingers
Has given me a fever that refuses to subside.

Our trails have drowned. The moment archived.
But my feelings affirmed and new sets arrived.
The flutter of your eyes, the truth beneath your lies
My mind may forget to tell my heart. But both resigned.

I couldn't conjure till yesterday how people can loose things while walking on water.
Least ever imagined that we would have lost: your footwear and my cardiac tick.

The Hallway

The Hallway

Turn the key, switch the yellow light on.
Introduce the hall to the stranger.
Lie, that the candles are for mood, and
not for an old romantic habit.

Photo frames on all walls, face them,
dimly visible, 'cross the candles.
Preferred music stashed away in drawers,
radio turned on, tonite's theme: Random.

Hardly, have a thing to talk about nor,
the will to trace 'ny mutual tastes.
Her perfume or lip gloss don't matter, and
Impermanence pardons dexterity.

This hallway is a highway tonight,
tomorrow, someone else could crash here.

- Shaxeb S. (From the collection - Rooms)