Prelude

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That’s when the heartbeats race

That’s when a blush warms your cheeks

That’s when shivers flow down your back

That’s when your fingers tremble

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You swallow and swallow hard

You close your eyes

Your heart comes to a standstill

Your soul sings a song to music unwritten

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It’s the anticipation

It’s the breaths that you share

It’s the gentle fluttering of your eyes

It’s the best part of your first kiss

 

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Moondrops

img_1866.jpgHues of pinks dusted the branches,

As the dusk melted into a moonless night,

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Tiny buds unfurled their blossoms,

As the soil shimmered under the starlight

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Moonshine sprinkled on the blooms,

As the enchantment weaved in flight.

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The earth spun on its edge in joy,

As the apple blossoms glowed bright.

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Like pearls, they blushed and twinkled,

As they demured under a touch so slight.

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The sun shined brighter by the day

As honeyed petals glided featherlight.

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Like moondrops on a carpet of green,

They never failed to arouse delight.


I lost track of the number of apple blossoms I saw during my Kashmir trip, each more enchanting than the next. An ode to the happiness!

Evanescent #writephoto

That luminous night

As we lay under the starlight

Taking in the moon rising from beyond 

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Fingers almost touching

Eyes almost meeting

Heartbeats almost slowing

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It wasn’t love

It surely wasn’t a promise

Only a hint of a what-if.

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Yet the present was ours

The world infinite in the grasp of our gravity

At the center of the universe were we


Some almosts are beautiful 🙂 Written for Sue Vincent’s photo prompt “Luna”

Warped

Dreams and aspirations lie astray,

As I was taught restraint and obedience,

As I was directed to modesty and diffidence,

As I learnt to be demure and sympathetic.

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Wrapped as a daughter, a wife and a mother.

A philosopher. A cheerleader. A dictator.

A cook. A lover. A tutor.

Warped in multiple identities but The One,

Several faces at the loss of The One.

The price I paid.

Of simply being a woman.

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I am under veils of mystery,

Independence boxed by sentinels of society,

With their double standards and patriarchal mindsets.

The waters churn a storm beneath the calm,

The rocks brew lava within the silence.

A dam waiting to burst. A volcano itching to erupt.

Waiting for the dominoes to fall.

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Often called by the name of the rose.

Soft as petals. Rich in fragrance.

Unforgiving as thorns.

Simply a woman.



Unsaved

Image result for twenty one pilots migraine lyrics

Don’t you take a leaf from your memory

And hoard it away in the safe.

Your mind sifts through the times past

Filing the precious moments to be saved for eternity.

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Then you lock the safe and throw the key away,

Because you have the strength to move forward.

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But then the temptation rears its ugly head,

Mocking with the tantalizing flashes of simpler times.

When all is left is to smash it open

And scatter the vestiges of the souvenirs into the wind.

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You are empty-handed, without the safe or those recollections,

Left with exhaustion, incapable of creating more impressions. 


Written for Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday – save/safe.

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