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Bansi Adroja Aug 2018
We are the secerets we keep
the songs we dance to in the kitchen
when no one else is home
the drunken kisses at parties
we told our parents we weren't going to
the regular nightmares that make us want to run

We are the things we want
when no one else is looking
the second slice of cake
the quiet lazy days we crave
all of the pet peeves
we still hold grudges for

To me you are who you were
in the park last summer
after two glasses of wine
holding hands while the light
faded out
A Poem a Day : Six
Bansi Adroja Aug 2018
I feel it on my skin when you touch me
sometimes its the only thing
as you breathe on my neck
so close
as you push further
holding me in place
while pushing me further away
as if I'm not the same
drowning in a feeling I can never place
A Poem a Day : Five
Bansi Adroja Aug 2018
I want a Sunday morning kind of life
coffee on the porch
pile of pillows in bed
the newspaper folded the way you always did

Those days wasted
talking about heading for the coast
living in the sand and sea
your skin on mine
in perfect pace

I want just another one of those days
with ice cream on your chin
and the grass between our toes
the smell of lavander or honeysuckle
long walks in the sun
A Poem a Day : Four
Bansi Adroja Aug 2018
We are our blood
all of the family ties that bind us
keep us in our place

In the same country towns
on roads we walked with backpacks
dreaming of the beyond

The things we said we'd do
to keep our parents happy
the school plays and good grades

Sometimes it's all too much
being the good one
or knowing you have to grow up

Sometimes there is nothing more
than being nameless in the wilderness
with no expectations to weigh us down
with no scars from the past

born brand new
A Poem a Day : Three
Bansi Adroja Aug 2018
Life is hours spent in traffic jams
changing radio stations
waiting for the sound of nostaliga
that song
that year
the one that reminds you of summer
of rain on clear nights
a sky full of stars
or the way that kiss caught you off guard
A Poem a Day : Two
Bansi Adroja Jul 2018
I want you
your strange habits
your bad moods
the stories you tell on Friday nights
after a beer
or six
the sound of your voice first thing
breakfast in the sun
stolen days in bed
the pace of your heartbeat
lost under covers and clouds

Oh, I want you
A Poem a Day : One

— The End —