Ugly Nudity

How deep is that

Plastic smile

Of yours, I wonder.

Wouldn't it peel,

Right off your face,

And then, dribble

Unto nowhere,

Leaving you nude-

Every crinkle on your face

mirroring the hatred,

The spite,

That you nurture in your soul-

And in that ugly nudity,

Wouldn't your reflection

Scare yourself?

And then,

Where would you be?

An Ode To A Friend

I could not but be. I know.

I may not awaken to

Each dawn

With your memory-

Yet, not a day

Passes by,

When, forgotten,

You are.

I know, I could not but be.

In every joy, I may not

Wish to call out to you.

But in every tear,

I miss you.

Devoid of your smile,

Your words,

I feel hollow.

I could not but be. I know.

I may not think of you

In a crowd.

But in the solitude of me,

I find that space

Bleeding,

Where only you,

And you could be.

I know. I could not but be.

In the selfishness

Of a moment,

I let go, of you,

And our yesterdays-

To clutch onto

The tomorrows,

I dreamt of.

I could not but be. I know.

This stranger, I am

Today, has lost a friend.

But the friend

That you have always been

Would forever be.

Sorry, I could not be more-

Sorry, I could not but be.

Languor

Rhapsodical, this music
Of delving headlong
Into the hidden depths
Of you, and me-
Living through this state
Of entangled desires
Laced with molten dreams
Dripping-

Plop!

The ripples grow, seamless,
Dissolving us,
Into a million-pixel portrait.
And the music ebbs away
Pulled under-
As though choking,
Into a breathless rapture.

And as we resurface once again,
Into the placid countenance
Of ourselves-
There seems no haste to chase
The glitter, or swoon to the melody.
Instead, we turn onto our own
Dipping away
Into the comfort of the self.

Yet, in all languor,
This lazy love sustains itself.
And there is nothing
I wish for-
Than, this complacency,
Of knowing-
This is forever to last.