All articles filed in Love poems
Beginning of an End
Is it the beginning of an end I wonder no words do justice I ponder * the 2am walk by the beach steps laden with follies the sand clings to my feet waves try to set them free * against the July winds heavy with juvenile chill my palms feel warm where they hug my…
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I wrote a letter…
I wrote a letter and went to the post the fella didn’t take it said it was blank to the core I asked for a pen and looked for a spot but couldn’t manage anything more than a blot took it back to the post and he laughed at the dot so long you took…
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Am I still me?
your memories cling to my very skin it is hard to tell where I end where you begin they crawl all over me sparing not an inch not even the air I breathe their whispers ring through autumns and springs my mind is tormented by the epiphanies they bring days dissolve into nights with such…
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An Epiphany
You tug at your ear lobe. Once, twice. You did that as our eyes met today. When I’m alone in the clouds, I imagine you doing that. You’d said, it’s when your heart’s racing past a hundred beats , when you can’t stop it from wanting something, is when you do that. I guess to…
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tell me otherwise…
on some days when the moon is hiding behind a cloud I see you through its eyes and I feel your gaze upon me on those nights I find your smell lingering in the corners of my bed when I climb in they hug me until I fall asleep you may deny it wasn’t love…
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maybe that’s why…
a piece of your heart is lost in the crevices of this heart of mine maybe that’s why I know you’re missing me wanting to hold me to caress my lips to drape your body over mine like a creeper vein running up a wall maybe that’s why I know you shed a silent tear…
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Lover (The Art of Staying Lost Series): ARC Review by Asha Seth
Author: Sakshi Narula | Genre: Poetry | Pages: 125 A poem is a ray of hope, a friend who is as messed up as you but knows you better than the rest of the world. From the author of the celebrated poetry collection, Loveish comes this two book poetry series, The Art Of Staying Lost. Lover, the…
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Micropoetry#60
4 am
you’re adrift barely breathing you’re sleeping but your ghosts are lurking although draped in slumber in your head you’re wide awake… For 4 am, is the hour to sire fresh dreams to leave behind all that couldn’t be… For 4 am, is a new bend those haunts need to rest the voices better wait they…
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Asha Seth 