Moon, my beloved, forgive, the fault is solely mine,
beguiled by your beams, I have yearned for your love,
my heart, lost in love, is such a wayward dove,
*it would fly, fly, but how would it ever reach you?

My heart beats fast, in a cryptic time scale,
Shiva's hand drum that  accompanies her speech,
she is a poet of handcrafted words, rough cut diamonds,
she alludes, suggests, gives vague hints, eludes from traps
oh! how so so exquisite, her veiled references!

She makes my soft center melt, it's now a chocolate fudge-
the color of blood, would she take it? I yearn so deep,
the art of concealment, attains a new life with her,
I am baffled, yet mighty pleased, the kids delighted,
She behaves the way nature does, in an intuitive flash-

I reach out to grab the key to the core of this union;
she is nature;  quickly her cloudy sky clears,
with the peep of sunshine, she is pleased, then
in the afternoon, I see a sprinkling rain, magical!
with eyes filled with curious light, I watch her,

Now I understand her, learn to love her deep,
her gentle changing moods that walk with the moon,
not for nothing, I liken my only love to a dreamer,
not a poet, but rhapsody in her nature, pure rapture.

I know its late, but it’s a Sunday
a lazy sunny morning
                               after the stormy night yesterday
and all I want is to lie
right here beside you amongst the pillows
                                                        ­      and nuzzle upto you
bury my face in your chest
and feel your warmth inching its way from
                                                                ­         my heart to my toes
the aches and pains of the week
slowly melting away in your bear hug
                                                             ­         and my world lighting up
with your smile
“aren’t you getting up?”, you ask
my eyes are stuck together with sleep
I’m not ready to let the world in yet
                                                             ­            want to shut it out today
but you are persistent
i see you’ve been up before me
i smell the coffee in your breath

                                                         ­      i find coffee-flavoured lips
                                                            ­       are quite addictive

Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish

a room filled with people
blasting bass
and blaring lights
smoke
whiskey
heat
we're all one in a dark room.
mellow movements with the music,
there we were.
there you were.
hands on each other
our fingers locked my body to yours,
theres no point in hiding
no point in denial
there would be a point to let go
you did and so did i.
there you were,
culminating perfection
just for tonight
snug lips,
rhythmic tongue
as it dances in me like we danced in this room.

i watched you as you walked away
still lingering for another second,
another moment to hold on to.

They say we are too young to know what true love is.
They say that long distance relationships never work.
They say that being "like us" is a sickness
So, I guess I'll never tell them how my ribs hurt every time my heart beats too hard when my plane
          lands and you love me with vaccine kisses.
I'll take my medicine without insurance because, you only live once YOLO
Unless you believe in reincarnation.
And I have to, because how could we be so perfect, know each others faces like a married couple
          knows the crows feet stories they grown into for 60 year, and I have only looked at you for 4
          months?
Lover, you asked me to come to church with you, I said yes.
I needed to thank him, or her, or whoever for answering my payers in a difference country.
To thank whoever for taking two candle burned pages and making them a book, a bible that I
          pray to every night.
And I may not believe in God but I believe in you and your past, which is chiseled into the banks
          of my bloodstream. The burred edges being eroded away by time and heartbeats.
They say we'll never make it.
They say we are too young.
They say Time + Space = heart break.
I say bring "it" on, specially if "it" means more ***.
I say I have been old enough to see slow wars silenced by fast hands, see starts die, see memories
         so old that only the boxes in my basement remember them.
I say Their Mouths + words = shut **** up!
They say a lot of things.
But I say "I love you" more.
They say a lot of things.
But kisses are silent, and or are the breathless laughs and eye rolls you share every time I honk your
          ***** like a red nosed clown at a birthday party.
They say a lot of things.
But I talk way more and my tongue has more use in the subject matter that is you.

Your shirt was missing a button
and I couldn't help but notice
but you told me I was pretentious
so I pretended not to see it
but all day long it bothered
me and I couldn't help but stare
at the way the fabric bunched
and nobody seemed to care