Culture

Navarathri Winter

If love was just that thing communicated in silence

A sculpture

made of dewdrops and dreams

And tears kissed away gently

With butterfly wings

before hurt became an issue

Before the first tingling

touch which awakens

a thousand fresh Universes

made just for us

Then we never loved

If love was that which locked us

Instantly

In a bubble of engagement

Our stance

that of adversaries

While our  eyes say something different

My giving you all that was mine

Asking you for the one thing

sought in return, something

which was not yours to give

If the wound to the heart is deeper

Than the one to the body

Haemorrhaging blood

and dreams with equal intensity

Then no one has loved like us

No on

has loved like us.

Mahisha

 

 

Lakshmi Bayi

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Lakshmi Bayi

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