Sunday, August 24, 2014

|| you ||

are lonelier
than i
though i
wait for you
more than
you wait
for yourself

we seek our time
in the chronometer of
each others' pulsations
i want to see
my time
as a squealing, happy infant
in your lap

there is nothing
as delicate
as love
left to live on earth

in the absence of your palm
the earth has shrunk

my palms
that contained
wholesome days
intimate nights
now hold
tender restlessness
trembling of dreams
the noise of
the heart
beating against
a deserted beach

sleeping in your eyes
my eyes dreamed
intoxicating dreams

living in
your love
i feel
the beat of time
the death of dreams.

(Painting : Ganesh Pyne)

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