I never found lips to be intimate,
even when they burned softly against mine,
a fleeting warmth, a क्षणिक स्पर्श, अधूरा सा जुनून,
a lip kiss-मोहक, yet too सतही to define.
Intimacy lived in the almost-a quiet design,
your breath, गरम और व्याकुल, tracing my त्वचा divine,
the air between us, a निःशब्द आवेग in line,
like an अधीर चाह learning patience, slow and benign.
It was your gaze that undressed my silence in time, ठहरी हुई, जैसे कोई अनकहा राज़, subtle yet prime,
a मद्धम सी कसक beneath my pulse, a rhythm so fine, deeper than any kiss—एक अनंत स्पर्श, I can’t decline.
And somewhere between स्पर्श and विरह, we align, your presence lingered like an अधूरी दास्तान in my mind,
a धीमी, विलंबित लहर against my चेतना’s shrine,
where desire became शाश्वत—एक अनकहा सा अफसाना, divine.
-Dr Priya Tripathi
Apr 2
Apr 2, 2026 at 3:13 PM UTC
I like to hold onto things
like threads of time that fray,
the sweater I outgrew last spring
still warms me in its way.
My mornings taste the same
that one breakfast, that one plate,
the comfort in repetition
feels like a quiet fate.
I sit by the same old window,
where the hills know my name,
the sky keeps changing colours
yet my view remains the same.
I re-read the books I’ve lived through,
their pages soft with trust,
the words don’t change, but somehow
they always feel like us.
And oh my favourite people,
I keep them close, like song,
the ones who stayed when silence
was heavier than strong.
Maybe I cling too tightly,
to sweaters, skies, and days
but holding on has taught me
how love outlives its ways.
Because sometimes, staying still
isn’t fear—it’s faith.
And some things are worth holding
even when they’ve changed.
And if someday I must let go,
I’ll do it slow, with grace
for everything I’ve held so long
has already found its place
Dr Priya Tripathi
Nov 12, 2025
Nov 12, 2025 at 12:39 AM UTC
A knock on pericardium’s wall
That were once slammed closed
He appeared
Holding a bouquet
Made of paper roses.
-Dr Priya Tripathi
May 25, 2025
May 25, 2025 at 1:53 PM UTC
I didn’t cry—no tear, no blink,
Though they said my heart would sink.
Her laughter rang where mine once lived,
But his cold gaze would not forgive.
My hands were still, my soul like stone,
A fierce Medusa, standing alone.
Mourning came in nights unseen,
Beneath calm Artemis’ serene.
I watched them fade, shadows pale,
No storm inside, no anguished wail.
Like Athena, wise in fight,
I held my ground, embraced my might.
Closure struck like Apollo’s dart,
No pain, no break—just strength of heart.
From Troy’s ashes, I rose untamed,
A queen of ruins, unbowed, unclaimed.
-Dr Priya Tripathi
May 24, 2025
May 24, 2025 at 2:41 AM UTC