A Kindling Soul

You woke up at the crack of dawn; And found me right where you'd left me. An inch away; your mouth, to mine Exhaled, and moved away quickly. Your eyes that I'd watched drift off to sleep Now flutter, breaking the only contact With mine, undeterred, unmoving Your beautiful hazels deserve no less than that. You fumble with words, your patrons every other time, Each syllable laced with a sleepy tone, Every breath you take is deeper than the last. Behold what my confession has borne. Enticed by that luscious, spirited, breath, I move in closer, and watch crimson come alive My fingers, curious, explore the red Find a warm softness unknown in time. I move away strands of hair from your face, And watch your eyes- now perplexed, so sublime. Your lips part, and yet, no sound escapes The sighs that follow, all captured by mine. I pull you closer, as you shiver in my arms Finally it happens, and your lips with mine rhyme. In the soft light that fills your room, A d...

Brought out the worst in each other; That which was hidden, In the dark. Like them. The wetness of the earth, Of the air, And between them. Desired. Abused. What had they become? They were surreptitious. It started that way. Still is. Will always be. The flashes of green In the night sky blue Yellow light, Shivering, shimmering. The cold air, and hard rains The grass, the marble, The stairs, Loved, lost, forever. Theirs were the longest conversations, With no words, Just predicaments, And glances. Never ending heat, Ever lasting want. Darkness has taken over At the end, do they start?

Under the dark, blue sky, Under the dim lit stars That twinkled away, Far away. I met you, I felt you, I found you, I knew you. I shared my soul, And the darkness of my heart. Slowly, you became the darkest part But when did that start? The dew never settled. The scars of the thorns Never left my feet. Sometimes when the wind blows, I can hear you breathe. You found me, you held me. Never knew me, did you? Left me out, in the rain, To climb down, alone. It wasn't the nicotine That I got high on, That I craved. Of which I was a slave. You, in turn, of her, her love. Still are, I can see. Only the smoke remains. And a lonesome me.

I spent the last 11 years outside of my hometown. So, the one time that I do decide to visit, Aunty Flow decides to accompany me. Well, no thank you. Oh, but I don't have a choice, do I? Over the years I have come to not loathe my periods. Well, as much as one can, anyway. But as soon as my flight landed at the airport, a reminiscent dread started creeping over my body. I started panicking. Emotions aren't my best friends during my 'time of the month'. Or anytime, really. But that's a different issue. I couldn't recall the gazillion rules that I was supposed to abide by while I was on my period in that house.  Not walk in front of the tiny temple we have at home. Not touch anything in the kitchen. And, what? With every stair I climbed, another rule would pop up in my head. Don't touch the water container. Don't touch the jars and jars of namkeen set on the table for everyone to eat whenever they please. Except a bleeding, extra-hungry me. That'...