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In That Moonlit Night Standing In The Abaft,
Watching The Towed Flaccid Wooden Raft,
I Thought That I Saw An Angel Resting,
Lying Exhausted There In That Craft.

I Call The Girl Out Unbeknownst Of Her Kind Name,
"Hey Young Lady!!" To Which She Didn't Much Respond,
She Looked Up Towards Me Once In Anguish & Collapsed,
I See Desperation In Her Amber Eyes & Resolve To Help Her.

The Crewmen Had Now Been Doing The Paddles After Resting,
I Summon My Captain & Ask, "Do You See That Girl In The Raft?"
The Senile Captain Smiles To Say, "Commodore, Better Get Married,"
I Look Just Clueless To Which He Simply Replies, "There Is No Girl."

True He Was As She Had Simply Disappeared,
I Started Thinking Of My Sleep Needs That Day,
I Looked Around Again In A Hope To Find The Girl,
I Had Compromised My Routine As The Commodore.

Then I Immediately Realized It Was My Wild Phantasm,
Now This Was Just A Plain Illusion Of A Tired Sailor's Mind,
No Mermaids Could Have Ever Existed In Reality & Were Fake,
I Turned Towards The Deck To Go Back To My Bunk For Sleeping.

As I Climbed Down The Stairs To Enter My Room Amazed & Dazed,
I Saw Her Standing And Waiting For Me By The Side Of My Bunk,
I Accepted That Delusion Of My Mind & Started To Lie Down,
She Said, "I'm As Real As Your Thoughts, Don't Fear Me."

She & I-Me & Her, Had The Best Time That Night,
In The Morning She Was Gone & Was Just Gone,
Disappeared Into Thin Air While I Was Asleep,
Each Day I So Dearly Long For Her To Return.
November 28, 2012 poem.

7 Stanzas Of A Beautiful Open-Eyed Dream Written In A Lonely Evening Reflecting Upon What I Lost Due To The May 7, 2010 Accident.

Read the entire Angel Saga by me, Atul Kaushal.
https://hellopoetry.com/collection/13567/the-angel-saga/

My HP Poem #19
©Atul Kaushal

I thank you all so much for the overwhelming response that this poem has received.

If you get interested in reading any of my novels after having read this poem then do visit https://www.amazon.in/Atul-Kaushal/e/B00NIQ5MTC/ for buying any of my stories.
Kiss your lips
And inhale laughter,
Oh god, the way
Your mouth curls,
Eyes become
Gentle slits,
And the bending
Of your brow
Insists on
Intimacy,
Every ounce
Of my soul
Says, "Yes,
Please."
A chunk of intimacy,
Another part of closeness.
Sweet traces of disagreement,
In the warmth of our arms.
Yes, together with these,
We brew the drink of love.
It being largely uncontrolled,
We let most of things happen.

And trust my words about love,
Things are being pretty perfect.
My HP Poem #690
©Atul Kaushal
Do you think
I could
make something
beautiful
if I tried?

Do you think
it could move
hearts
and
minds?

Do you think
I have it in me
to show
everyone
how I feel
in spite
of my fear
of everything
real?

Do you think
if I reveal just
who
I
am,
anyone
will still
love me?

Do you think
once my
breath
is gone
from my
freshly-tarred
lungs,
anyone will
miss me?
we no longer achieve
intimacy by
peeling off our
skin like the band aid
that will sting as it is torn away.

intimacy is the art
of feeling like a monument torn apart,
hoping no one will tear you down
to create a better
you.

i have become depressed-
repressing all the love i have to give
if only i could shed my shadows
and remember we are only flesh.

i don’t remember
how to be intimate.
Beautiful girl,
You strike fear at my core

You alone can get close to me,
And only slowly,
One secret at a time

As I release them to you,
One by one,
I fear you'll turn away and run

The more you hear,
The more you may hurt me
But still I will try,

For the thought of your beauty
Wrapped around me entirely
Is greater than the sum of my fear
She parts like the sea
When she is underneath me;
These salty skin and heaving winds
Compare no depth to when she is with me.

She clings on to me like I do to her
Storm swept lovers longing for the coast
Of the joys of home and the warmth of summer;
When all this that I could remember:

My name on her lips.
Her eyes when I kiss
Her senselessly; her smile,
Her hands, the way her fingers dance
Against my skin;

I am bursting
With vibrant passion
When she finds me again.
The parting of the sea:
Where she parts and I breathe
Alone and never has been,
But she has always

always drowned me.
(inspired from a character driven work and a love that shouldn't have been the worst)
You used to tell me how you didn't like the way I lacked a sense of intimacy,
How I wouldn't hold you the way you wanted to be held,
The way she held you,
I wouldn't kiss you much in public,
So you didn't give me a chance to get away,
You would hold me tighter and my escape was found within the lock of our mouths,
I liked it,
But I always wondered what normal really is,
Were you like this with her or was she normal,
Do you crave the touch of women who lack the intimacy you desire, or do you simply like playing our little game,

As of late I've tried to touch you more, say words which feel like rosebuds,
So sweet and elegantly delicate,
And the more I show this foreign concept if an intimate relationship,
The more I fall in love,
The more I fall into your trap of smiles and fingers running through my hair,
The more I crave your kisses, your touch,
What happened to me?
Because darling,
I'm afraid.
I'm trying really hard to feel comfortable to show how deeply I care for him in public. I think it's making him happy but my anxiety is going through the roof
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