amrutha

amrutha Mar 2016

The night is gentle
upon your lips
shimmer your gleam
onto the grace of my hips
pale
in your twilight

the way I see you looking into my eyes
as I hold you tight
makes me eternal

amrutha Mar 2016

Turn back

Silver fog
the stairs wet
knock knock
would you let
the winter enter
your door
would you let her
swallow the floor
underneath your toes
collapsing into her heart
would you meet her there
waiting in the womb of silence

amrutha Feb 2016

To my dear

I could just sit here wounded,
do nothing but stare at all your colours
closing my eyes, tracing your face
with cold palms, I could just be
How ever you want me to, I can be
Without wanting anything back,
without taking anything but your blood
into my veins,
And it's okay my love, let the door be
Let the rain pour
We have this night and you have all of me.

amrutha Aug 2015

Window to Space

Here I am lying against this pillow again
As the moon's haunting the starless sky
at the same hour of dusk
As a trembling secret writhes under the mud
Growing into my roots screaming through my leaves
Moaning like moontides on a full moon night
And here I am lying down staring
at the sleepy shadows walking away slowly on this ceiling
Behind me, a window to eternal space.

amrutha Jul 2015

Graceless

Don't you see?
Beyond this working and moving
a star trembles in the dark
You speak to me
and all I seem to see
is the grace with which your voice
mixes with the breeze.
Measurement I do not understand
Dimension I am
Language suffocates me
I am the air that chokes my throat.

Nothing is as graceless as a poet.

amrutha Jun 2015

My prayers to him

I sink and float, sink and float like a boat lost in the sea
looking at just your eyes
I don't know what's ahead, how much deeper beneath
I forget that I can look back, I forget directions
I sink and float, sink and float like a boat lost in the sea
nameless, streetless, shapeless.
My only name, your heartbeat
My only identity, you.

amrutha Jun 2015

A Broken Summer Moon

He is a delicateness
a tender beautiful mess
He is the softness of
the papers of an old book
He is that forgotten wetness
of shy kissed lips
He is that sudden leap in her heart
when she smells rain
He is all those tiny things
unseen and untouched
Believe me he is
all that I have touched and cherished.

He is the emptiness
of a broken summer's moon.
Believe me he is.