Being His

 Holding on, staring right into an abyss,

The somber black,

Into the lover’s eyes,

To the continuum of the ache of longing,

The ravenously burning eyes,

The melancholic aloofness.

I take a step ahead,

As my feet leave traces in the sand.

Why do my knees shake?

It’s just him,

It’s just us,

It is us.

His wild saunter rushes me,

As his hands grip my hair.

My small fingers stroke his temples,

The foreign void upon his face.

I feel weak again—certainly, it is him,

Absorbing me in.

My eyes flutter,

As if it’s a journey back home.

He breathes on my neck,

Would it hurt if I cling to him tighter?

It’s like drifting off,

As his honey-dripping lips bore into mine.

Am I the wasp? Is he the orchid?

I do not wish to empty him,

But was I not the hungry one?

And then awaited us those we feared—

The overpowering needs, the urges,

The onslaught violence of intimacy.

His hands slipped down, and down—

Oh, Lord.

I breathed in buckets,

My chest could burst,

But his calloused hand fondled it.

My heart synced again,

And I was tamed.

Was he turning me into a beast?

Or did he recognize the rush,

And the ardor?

As my hands run all the way through him,

I feel the veins.

A moan leaves his mouth,

His hands grabbed me,

And mine grabbed him.

His eyes imploring the misery—

For him to take me,

Right here, right now.

I do not see a reason to repeal.

Disrobing has always been cursory, no?

My eyes did suffice,

For the glory of gaping at him.

The dopamine surge made me drowsy,

Too limp to feel where his caress traveled.

I was famished,

And the beast in me yearned to take hold of this man.

I wanted to worship,

For the rest of the night.

And I shall take my moment,

I was in charge of his cries.

My hands hasten as they went down,

But I moved them up—

A sweet little distress.

I wanted him mad,

And as much in starvation as I was.

A misery shall relieve the misery.

A force pulled me tighter,

Too crowded,

My gullible delight put on show.

When I felt—

What I felt—

Standing too close,

His pelvis nudging into me.

Was it his length slipping in for me?

I gasped,

At the forthcoming escapade.

Only to look down, then at his face—

Oh, he had registered my alarm.

When his gigantic fingers slid up my thighs,

My brain happened to be soaked.

I blush, as his lips harass mine,

And his fingers trespass my dignity.

He made me shaky,

If only we could stop my eyes from rolling back.

I heard my weepy self,

Pleasure somehow tumbling down the two doe eyes,

Like a storm of pixie dust.

A moment down as I see,

In a moment, it was gone—

His manhood buried deep inside me.

As I grabbed the grains of sand,

Tides kissed me first,

So did his thirst.

A laugh broke out through me,

He did too.

And we made love, then laughed,

We laughed and then made love.

It was glorious,

It was intriguing.

An eternity insinuates to be an atom,

And I shall spend thousands of them,

Only to be solely beheld as one.

Nothing but us—

Aching, evolving, laughing,

And naked by the seashore,

Under the moonlight.

~goofybird

An Ode To The Wait

The alternatives unraveled like my own personal feast,

Either I let you go, 

Or maybe pause for another era

To look at the universe 

build and break

And wait

My eyes choking on gold

And thoughts intense

Stuck in this brutal courtship with the peace 

Making a judgment is heavy

I can let it go,

I can take my stride of harmony

In the end, 

I can again find my comfort in myself

I don't tire myself

But it feels so empty

Empty in this enormous depravity

Reminds me how I wasn't used to being this independent, 

Being away, being detached from what was yours 

This redundant freedom makes no sense, not anymore

It pains being so much to be in my dignity, 

And not show up with the desperations 

But I know what to choose now,

I'll wait

I'll see you on the dark side of the moon,

All of us one in the penumbra.

I'll wait. 

With My Eyes Wide Awake

If I knew you could

I'd be begging to be saved

From this nasty lance of time

Throttles me and my sleep

There's a pain in my eyes

My hollow, sunken eyes

For I know if I fall asleep

I will lose this war

I could lay awake

Till the apocalypse struck

Witnessing the unrest

Of humanity running out of devotion

Is it truly necessary?

That only the fear of a bereft soul

Makes them crave for more?

Only regrets stronger than all else

Than the bittersweet comfort of love

Even in my deranged paranoia

Denial is sweeter than belief

This delusional snow in my eyes

I'm half as blind

My eyes are open and empty

There's a fragile hope in disguise

I don't want to be kept,

It's just a small wish to die

To flee this mortal turf

With my eyes wide awake

The Ghost In My Dreams

It seems like inimitable winter here,

Kind of misplaced, kind of eerie.

There's snow all over

I am cold,

The light filters and wounds me all over again,

Light is so little

I wish to be buried in the warmth of the white veil.

The idea of young death seemed unfair,

How is it so soothing forthwith?

But wasn't it unfair when the horizon was loved for promises untrue? 

Sky kisses the earth, with subtle chivalry,

If one day he would explode in her urge, 

Wouldn't it be a collapse?

Nothing is irrational anymore,

neither is my idea of death.

My small heart has taken too much of the worldly pain,

September brings in spring, I await the fall. 

How consumingly uncomfortable full blooming flowers are,

Why could they do it and I can't?

There's a ghost in my dreams, 

He manipulates me each day

One day he puts me together, 

Warms me like a blanket,

And one day he is distant and frigid

Doesn't care anymore,

I lay awake as a cold mess

He comes and goes, a ghost for sure.

The Days I Had

Aimless mornings

And nights spent wandering

Emptying cups of coffee

To throttle sleep

And staring at the wall

The days I had 

Just coerced my lungs 

And the red pump

Assembled me. 

I wasn't lost ,

I just yearned to be

But it never came.

And my senses smothered me

Each day , each night.

The summer eloped

And clouds like vast swathe 

Maybe the earth twirled 

And there rained sod

I choked and water never poured

And such days stay 

For a long while 

Atleast in my blooming mind ,

Yet healing doesn't come. 

As if gloom had a face 

And he's kissing me mercilessly 

Sucking my hard earned sangfroid

And oozing the gruelling misery. 

Those days when

I didn't seek comfort 

I seeked reasons

An elixir

To run away from this goosechase.

Ah , those heavy days 

I lie 

When I tell you

I don't remember them.

I do , 

Maybe I always will,

I just can't tell you,

How it feels,

Unapologetically ,

me

Affairs of the Night

Night seems more alive

For there's this 

Violent affair of the peace.

Cries the sky

In the heavenly wars 

behind the clouds

Pink with blood.

Yet , in the bloodied massacre

Night drinks life

As the armour of the lies

Comes undone.

I lay awake ,

Each night for my 

demon pays me a visit

I owe him a talk

So does he to me. 

As a saint he enters 

In pain 

For being thrown out of heaven.

Night is alive , 

And guilty of theft ,

A callous artist of dreams. 

The conflicts of my choices

Stay in my room ,

As the Demon gratified me 

How an Angel couldn't.

May I not derive

Power from death 

And dearth of empathy

But don't I seek

Sucking the life out 

To store them in a vial 

with spirits

And be the judge of their sins.

Who am I they ask

Who am I , I ask too.

But all I ascertain 

That I'm the connoisseur

Of the night

Sustaining more life

Than the human kind.

The red oil in my heart 

Spills each night

And I manifest my court 

I sit on the throne of glass.

I am the perjure here

I am the king

And I am the jury.

And with all the unfair means 

In my court , the starlight wins

Against the sun.

I see dark in these lights

And pity those who feel dead.

I see light in the dark here 

And smirk with my purposes

And spread the word 

How night is alive , 

Night is peace.

Nights are for the theft 

An artist would do,

For the urgency

To appease the sonneteer 

And for the chanteuse 

To let the sky fall for her.

In the hours of the dark

When the moon skylarks 

And they succumb

To the sleep of placidity

Oblivious to the carnival

Of decay in the sky.

The carnival with the war

And the war goes on 

Behind the clouds.

The angels cry 

and so does the demon

The satan pays the visits

And the starlight 

Doesn't cease to amaze me.

In the violence of the night

Peace stays in silence

The war goes on within me

And night keeps me alive. 

I seem to have a cold heart.

I didn't miss much on love,

I suppose. 

Walking home with my friends

Who gossiped of break ups

And patch-ups

I wondered how broken heart

Eased all over again. 

Was that little touch enough

To fall for the same mess

Didn't the hurt suffice them

Their snippets seemed so gory

Maybe I've a cold heart. 

Yes , I do have a cold heart.

So cold 

That the fire of love subsumes itself

And vanishes. 

I might not have missed much on love , though

The girls told tales so fancy 

How love was to them 

Like jazz music in the library

Or the olives in your margarita.

They said love was like whiskey

On the rooftop under the starry sky.

But what I heard was how

Love was the emptiness in the room

Where I could hear the creaky wooden floor

And scare myself. 

If love was anything to me , 

It was a sweet death

No matter how sweet but was death. 

And I didn't want to die 

In this phenomenon of goosechase.

Oh my , did I not want to dance tonight 

Or did I just had a cold heart