I Watch you Sleep

Love,

I can’t sleep; I stay awake to watch you sleep. Do you know this? One day may be you will tell me about how my eyes are loud enough to wake you. But the truth is, I watch you sleep because my tiredness and sleep  is no excuse to lose this moment. Yes, this one. Right now.

Even in your slumber, I imagine your eyes flutter in deep sleep, every now and then halfway opening because you see something more than I can understand.

When you are awake, you sometimes speak quietly, slowly, and with thoughtfulness. But even when you are silent, I can feel you – clear across stadium rooms in the dead silent of a sleepy night and early morning. There is something magical about you that is not a trick.

And then the sun rises, and you are laying next to me. Hours have passed since our last words. I catch you opening your eyes and all I can do is exhale. And then, more than anything else, you are there. You are here. Hello, you always say. Simply. Unobtrusively. As though there were nothing simpler.

Your eyes are black. No, brown. Both? But sometimes I mistake your kind of color for that composite of every color this universe has ever produced. Sometimes, in my hallucination, I forget your name. Sometimes I forget the colour of your eyes. But that is understandable now, especially after my gaze strayed accidentally and lingered deliberately on the not-so-innocent strands of hair falling on your neck and flowing down.

Sometimes I feel like an astrologer looking at  the patterns in the mole-colored specks of life across your shoulder. Believe me, I know: Your eyes are paintings of kindness, mysterious sadness, and a pattern of worship spelled out in cryptographs I have never learned how to read. Your eyes are joy. Your mouth breaking indecisively and then completely into a crescent moon of a smile, is joy. Your fingers reaching for mine in the dead of night, is joy. Your half-dreamed, half-said “I love you” in your sleep, is joy.

Some wake at dawn to pray to the GOD. I stay in bed and worship you.

Some people go to church; I stay back and believe in you.

Some read holy books and recite verses. I clean my tongue with the sweetness of your name. 

Words for Love

Our destiny is so close now that we will exist in all permutations and combinations of twos as one.
Moment after moment I will seize my wrist and beg the violence of my pulse to cease.
I will ask my eagerness to stop spitting words.

But.............

If I won't have the words what would I do with all that I have for you? 
Wd I have to find a dark alley inside my heart to lock them away? 
Wd I have to set fire to myself from the inside out? 
Wd I have to seal my lips until I choked on my own love?

You smell of Love

You smell of the first rain, the mist in the flower garden in a winter morning.

You smell of honey and lemon, the smell of tea in the sleepy eyes.

You smell of a little baby, the smell of innocence.

You smell of tangy sweetness, the smell of friendship.

You smell of Amortentia, the helpless  smell of myth.

You smell of Musk, the ecstasy of the lover’s bodies.

I think you smell of love…………..Which means you must smell of me.