Perhaps letting go was
never an option?
Perhaps the closest I've ever
been to you was when we
were the farthest in proximity.
Bekhudi (Intoxication) You leave each time, leaving behind traces of you on overflowing galleries, songs, places, unhurried corners of coffee mugs, wrinkled bedsheets, aching limbs and a reckless heart that never quite feels the same again. Qasiid (Messenger) You and I meet again. As strangers, or maybe as long forgotten friends. Your hands entwined in hers; and mine, clenched tight. But funny, how our eyes still tell a story, our lips deny. Nazaakat (Delicateness/Finesse): The way your kohl laden eyes, unravels my soul, gliding through my heart, making a home out of nowhere. The way they reinstill my faith in the make believe world of ours, time and again.
there are nights that need no background scores, we drown in your laughter enveloping the air. And then, there are nights that need them all, loud enough to numb the brain, warm enough to rinse the fear.
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