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“What’s the matter, baby ?”
She asked me on that cold
December day.

I lay on the sofa,
With a smile on my lips
And tears in my eyes.

I lied into her ear.

My body betrayed me.

My smile had a warm sadness,
And my tears had a dancing joy.

And like she always did,
She saw through me again.

And I was glad she did.

For what she told me next,
I can never forget,
“Its human,
To feel this way once in a while,
I remember the last time I felt this way,
Was when you carried me home,
In your arms.
It was because,
I have seen hills,
And rivers,
So many of them,
But none of the roads that lead to them,
Drive me like you do.”

And gosh,
The startling truth in those words,
In your eyes,
In the warmth of your body,
Meant the birth
Of poetry in me.
Her fragrance spills ,
onto the sheets.

They leave little traces,
in every little corner,
every crevice of our small world.

And as our fingers entwine,
under the moonlit sky,
I feel myself soaring
up to kiss the stars.

She composes tunes of
my existence
to the sound of her heart.

She smelled of the universe.

and broken.

And every night,
before I fall asleep
to the sound of her heartbeat,
I take in her fragrance.

Reason being,
I want to bury it in my lungs
and scatter it every time
I exhale.
The distances between

You and I,

my love,

are essential.

And I am truly sorry,

for all the days,

when I never told you,

how much I love you.

How much I love,

the way you hair falls on your face.

The way the sun plays with your eyes.

The way your lips

curl into that smile,

when you say my name.

And this very distance,

makes us love each other,

so much more.

The rush of anticipation,

of meeting each other,



fuels our fire.

Makes us live,

and give meaning to the word

the universe calls


I admire your beauty,

just like the world

dotes on the beauty

of the moon.

See that, my darling?

The distance ,

is the


People may call me a poet.

But I just merely


what the universe has written;

Most of the times,
I feel,
that you and I,
my darling,
redefine our love on
Saturday nights.

Saturday nights,
when the sound of our
heartbeats mixes with the wine.

When you swerve your hips,
to the tunes on the old gramophone.

When every streetlight seems like a shooting star.

in it's very essence.

and beautiful,
define you,
my love.

You breathtakingly
naked and beautiful soul,
is the gateway to the Universe.

Swooning and high off
your fragrance,
all I want to do is
make love with you,
till the yearning moon
gives way to the jealous sun.

— The End —