Moments of Longing

 

Moments of Longing

 When you come home for a hand to hold,

For eyes to meet yours and the eyes to only read yours -

Enormous heap of words flowing down,

Endless shower of flowers bestowed out of love.

That one look to decipher you inside out,

That one look to secure your dwelling about,

Shelter the haven of your weary heart

Cater to the stitches, burns and dirt.

Those hands to feed your being, to nurture your dream,

Those lips to declare the madness and sin,

Those lips to caress and worship your skin,

To perceive your every unsaid word,

To wrap your inner child in those arms and meld and meld

Until heavens unwound,

To lose yourself in the game of ties and

Weave and writhe until both souls abide

The breaths of high, is it again a lie?

A lie just to breathe your air,

To fill the pockets and leave it scared

A lie out of nothing to feed on your blood

And leave you bare.

A lie,

Is it a drug of momentary peace or just a moment of ethereal relief?

Riddhi Chakraborty