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Arihant Verma Apr 2017
on the prompt "Falling in Love (more than once)"

I thought about
this prompt you gave me.
A ******* a train,
I had fallen in love with,
Silhouette of her hair
border lining the darkness of eventide
towards Bangalore.

We met in a ground a year later,
no intermittent contact held,
like quantum-entangled electrons do,
dumbfounded how it'd happened.
And again on the road in Bangalore
three years later.

A direct line to the eye's sight,
first time, under a morning seeming streetlight.
A latch bolded in the color of the eyes,
I longed to deep dive in.

Words finding silence at the wrong time,
so they resorted to not all things
and happenings having reasons
and fear of consoling a needy
in a fear of an upside down going failure.

And like between life and death are only breaths,
the silence between the sentences
was filled with ours
and death by chocolate,
and thoughts of silences
of the other's mind, unheard of,
aware only of an unbeknownst wind
of familiarity of an unknown kind.

I had fallen in love multiple times,
which is to say I'd sifted through
the earth to the other side
and started rising, from it, in it.

Following down the gushes of time
sinking and rising sensations
of guilty pleasures in the chest, insinuating
that the thing of beauty is a joy forever
but only when not possessed.

                           ***

There's an old man, my mother's father
not loved by anyone, angry all the time
illogically unnecessarily hurting others,
drunk trashing long hair and glasses,
rusted in the smell of decay.

I make me fall in love with him,
again and again and again,
so that he knows he's not alone,
always.

— The End —