I am in love.
With an idea
With a sound
With a movement
With a clarity
With an ease
I am in love.
I have been in love.
It never was a single moment
Of serendipity.
There was never another breath,
To justify my own.
There was never a flash,
To capture my slight smile.
But, I was in love.
It is a melody.
A rhyme of black and white,
Of harshness and a feather’s grace.
I am in love.
Not with a person,
Not with a lover,
Not with a friend.
I am in love.
With an idea.
With an image.
With an experience.
I am in love.
Oh, but not with a person.
For bruised that has left me.
Black under the tyranny,
Of an experiment.
I am in love.
I am in love.
Believe me.
No intertwined fingers.
No cupping palm.
Just me.
I am in love.
Jul 25, 2013
Jul 25, 2013 at 12:24 AM UTC
I am in love.
With an idea
With a sound
With a movement
With a clarity
With an ease
I am in love.
I have been in love.
It never was a single moment
Of serendipity.
There was never another breath,
To justify my own.
There was never a flash,
To capture my slight smile.
But, I was in love.
It is a melody.
A rhyme of black and white,
Of harshness and a feather’s grace.
I am in love.
Not with a person,
Not with a lover,
Not with a friend.
I am in love.
With an idea.
With an image.
With an experience.
I am in love.
Oh, but not with a person.
For bruised that has left me.
Black under the tyranny,
Of an experiment.
I am in love.
I am in love.
Believe me.
No intertwined fingers.
No cupping palm.
Just me.
I am in love.