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Oct 2016
Your breaths were soft murmurs
Muffled within the green whisperings
of the hooded lush covers,
I could catch a glimpse of your
bold cheekbones when light bounced
off them; light that would come and go
of its own accord,
From where and where to, who knew,
We only kept going on,
Deeper and deeper wheels took us,
Guided and misguided by the silences
That guarded the secrets of the forest,
Secrets that weighed down its rustling leaves,
Like they weighed us down everyday,
I would have licked off that bead of sweat
that must be rolling off your cheek right now,
Then why don't you?, a cricket quizzically chirped
Look, even the wilderness is talking to me,
Why don't you!, I wanted to ask,
But I didn't, the maze of tree trunks engulfing us
Tighter by the second,
The jungle looked so benign in the daylight,
Its vibe gentle, its voice tranquil,
Its green, so calm in the sun,
Turned to a bloodthirsty red by the night,
And a million stealthy eyes opened and followed
our drive, laughing at us as we lost track,
You and I,
Speeding away from sanity,
Hurtling away from humanity,
Rocketing away from reality,
No words spoken, but our hearts
pounding in unison as we ran,
In hopes of launching into that dimension
That existed sans sense of material,
Sans sense of reason,
Sans sense of self.
Remember, I've promised you nothing,
Said the jungle elusively,
Winding its curves dangerously steep,
Mysterious even in its time of sleep,
While your foot harshly pushed the pedal,
In the desperate hope that bound us
That if we could wander off track like last time,
and stumble upon that dimension once again,
and strip ourselves naked of the secrets,
and let our truths and our lies be consumed
by the Jungle,
Perhaps, once again,
Like last time,
We could lose it all to find each other.
Ghazal
Written by
Ghazal  New Delhi, India
(New Delhi, India)   
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