When a tweet, no longer comes from a bird.
A message, no longer written in words.
A picture, determines your current worth.
A swipe, is not for payments against earns.

Your world, no longer restricted to earth.
Your voice, can control your universe.
Games, without company, a box.
Books, used to be written, forgot.

Love was in letters, not characters.
Eyes looked straight, not down.
Communication, in touch were sound.
Reactions, were not button frowns.

Food shared, not delivered.
Noise surrounded, not muted.
Hands shaken, not email awaken.
The world was claimed, but not hidden.

An automated world,
not an automated me.

I get lost in your kiss
                   Yet feel at home on your **lips

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

My lust, my thirst,
Day by day happen to increase,
But the truth is it darling,
That my life till date has been cease (d)

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body.  i like what it does,
i like its hows.  i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones,and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the,shocking fuzz
of your electric furr,and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh….And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new

You made a poet fall in love with you
And expected her not to write sonnets about your eyes
Haikus about the way you kissed her in the moonlight
Expected the fire in her heart not to inspire couplets
You made a poet fall in love with you, and when you left
Expected her not to write pages about the ache in her chest
Write a soliloquy dedicated to her tears
Expected her not to feel every gut wrenching moment of the pen hitting paper like your words hit her in the most vulnerable places of her mind.
You made a poet fall in love with you, and you expected her to be silent.
That is no fault of hers.

I've learned that no matter how many coins you throw into a fountain or how many fingers you cross, you cannot make someone love you and neither can superstition

2. Almost is the worst way to love someone and if you cannot do it whole heartedly, you should not do it at all

3. I've learned that you cannot trust the things your heart tells you when it's sad

4. I've learned what it feels like to have my throat tighten a little every time I talk about you and I've learned what it feels like to taste pennies in my mouth every time I say your name

5. I've learned that you cannot always be a love story, sometimes you have to make yourself a bridge worth burning

6. Loneliness is when you lay down at night and your ceiling burns with rage because it is only looking at one person

7. I've learned how to know if you really love someone because you don’t give people the power to destroy you that you don't love

8. And I've learned that even if you know it is coming, you can never prepare yourself for how it feels