He spoke with his nose against mine.
He closed his eyes and hesitated to kiss me gingerly
and when I did not deny him, he kissed me again.

And when I returned his affections
he gave a sigh of passionate relief,
his fingers imploring tenderly to
find the skin beneath cloth

within the sheets, and I
allowed him to. “I want you
to understand,” he said against
my lips, pulling me into him,
and so I tried to.

Nothing has changed.
Everything happens to stay
the same in an inane way.

I ****** up when I said
I love you after a careless laugh,
but you waited and then said it back
like you hoped instinct would be intact.

Every kiss stains
where you leave it,
and it changes nothing.

Every kiss fades
when you leave it.

I can feel
by myself

I feel clean hair
because mama always said
to wash it when you feel sick

No tear shampoo was a
******* lie and so
were we and so we'll be.
Sick from unwashed hair.

Performing a storm
Is straining a chord, heart-string
Or a lightweight step.

When the rose buds have bloomed
vigorous dreams have flooded the heart glee
dumbness has flashed on the pensive mood -
quaking mind has grown
into the nucleus of dragging love
ocean of emotions have catalyzed the ***** close
deep aches have popped at the heart and stone
when render has conceived
the glimmer chords have become splashed
utmost has inflamed and grown to outburst,
bursts into the fire of gaiety -
psyche has poured the fathomless passion till death
###
@ Musfiq us shaleheen