shining down

have you ever felt like
sending music

to an absolute stranger?

like nobody you know
would understand
the bass of this song
that has you
silent, and wondering
in the middle of the night
in the star light

that's the thing
about music and poetry
and love
they pull you in
shifting your dimensions
until you and infinity

you're one
and endless

on loop

Writing of love as music

the sound and the timing
of you
your breath

overlaps with mine
in a purple haze
of dim city lights
staccato-ish
hitting and leaving me in
allegretto

the high notes
are the rooftops
which see the curves of
the planet
that you and I
inhabit
and then don't
meandering through our
existences
flitting between spaces
and infinities

while the absences
seem like stretched fermatas
ensuring my heart is bound
leaping up at so much as
half a ray of sunshine

I write of love
as if it's music
between stave lines
when really it's just me
bleeding
seeping
colouring
marking
weeping

ricochet

we're all so alone.
so desperately alone.

and it's a heady feeling like fuck.

when my soul embarks

My pieces of prose and poetry get a title later. Much after writing the whole way through. And the title is usually a line from the playlist at that moment. Life is much like that.

A half done tattoo.

Two weeks of separation.

Curiosity.

Turning your face away.

Crying within four walls.

Restlessness.

Vagabond feelings.

An unrecognizable face in the mirror.

Holding on.

Moving ahead.

Plans of drunkenness.

Lumps in my throat.

It is a half-written story. Changing course, finding meanders at every bend of the road. But there's only one life we get. And constant detours are going to take us only this far.