A little more each day

I want to write a poem for you
To tell how i feel
You set my world in tune,
In perfect rhyme with me.

It isnt just your eyes or smile
Or the way your fingers form and touch
Its something beyond that face of you
I long for and I love.

I dont worry to possess you
Or shield you away from the world
I dont want your night or day
Or promises for the future.

But sometimes-
Lets just meet at this place
And talk about secrets of the blue sky
All the things that make and unmake us
And why.

You contain a part of me
I see it in your eyes
And i love you more each day
Because you nurture this part inside.

Maya Angelou

I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.

(Salute to the sensitivity which did not miss these little twinkling lessons and the courage to nourish and let thrive this sensitivity.)

Words.

Tribute to Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

One of the few writers who weaved magic with words and I love getting lost in his world.

               
                         The adolescents of my generation, greedy for life, forgot in body 
                         and soul about their hopes for the future until reality taught them 
                         that tomorrow was not what they had dreamed, and they discovered nostalgia.” 
                                                                  

                                                                                    - Memories of My Melancholy Whores

metamorphosis

my skin stretched
as did my soul

my eyes cried
as did my beliefs

my feet curled in
as did my fears

my brain nuanced
as did my perspective

my heart expanded
as did my consciousness

my stomach churned
as did my ego

my body redesigned
as did my being

my hands reached out
as did my faith

to save the world I knew
and the self I'd grew

but certain imminence is undefeated
a certain epiphany destined

i felt the tug and pull
it gripped intense

i felt the burn
of metamorphosis

faith

their attraction is vehement

shameless, even brutal

every glance 

laden with hints of desire

every act 

confirming belongingness 

every day 

inches them closer

every night 

knots them tighter

each says nothing

knowingly letting down the other 

the unsaid is beautiful

anticipation of confession

more thrilling

the magic waxes

the magic wanes

a serendipitous faith in imminence

glues them till date