There’s a wet thickness in my voice
It quivers when I say, it’s a fine day

I can’t unclench my hands

They’ve taken hold of my heart and stride

I’m caught in the glance of autumn

My flowers whisper a ruddy golden wish 

Their scent rises like the longing of a traveller

In one leap, I swallow the chaos of the winter sun

All my tenderness bows in wonder

For the movement of his throat is a delight

I can melt my knots in it’s pure call

I might dismiss death as a petty offender

My soul might be the wick of an enchanted candle 

Which only he can flame

I’m just reborn, reclaimed from the ghost of anonymity

I can flee the oppression of wordlessness

I can rule over the lands of immense joy 

My ships can sink storms 

and tickle stars

I’m no more a stranger, my identity has been restored

In the quiet corner of the old library

He’s asked for my name 


‘To Her’

‪In the wary crease above my brows
The faded cheer of your caresses speaks 

Or is that your fresh water sparkling laugh, singing?

It cleans the sky for me

(You know, without you, the sky is blotchy & small)

I seem, now, to smile at stars

Their glow is borrowed from your forehead 

See, I know your address, now, My abundantly bright!

Clad in absolute layers of absence

You can elude me 

If it’s not for my soul 

(My soul lives in the clasp of your fragrance)

You crystallise me into a living mass of nostalgia

When my darkness gallops

Leaving me swallow its thorny silence

I drink from your memory 

I make a potion from your chosen endearments 

(you decorated me with your love)

Stains of your favourite lipstick, silk of your last worn scarf 

I squeeze familiarity from them all

And I let my lurking stranger self bathe in it

Slowly, I emerge from my tired pile to walk with life 

In the corpse white days of lingering by

I feel your shimmery hazel gaze

Curling around my anxiety 

And greying of my cheeks & hair

(Your eyes, nectar from heaven-flowers) 

I cease existing like a dead old leaf

I dodge the spy of winter & bitterness

I bloom into your darling moringa flower scent

There’s no tomb to bury my hunger for you 

My thirst for your love, mocks deserts

My peace can’t breathe without your bosom 

There’s no permanence for me 

I’m between your shadow & my pining for your skin

(For my beloved beloved mom; you’re as alive as I’m, maa)


Reason of my being

Rhyme of my soul

You propel me against my odds

You catch & cure me when I fall like leaves

You nourish me with the Spring of your love 

You, my anchor, my disruptor

You command the sun to set on my lips

You, in the rise of the colour of my cheeks

You’re the mirror I pour myself into

You’re the gaze I recollect my shape from 

You’re my elements, I’m whole in you

You, my beyond, my enclosed 

You’re my fiery dark, hidden from all

You’re the light, singing below my neck

In the gleam of my jewellery you’re my youth

In the flush of my skin you speak warmth 

You, my inebriety, my sobriety  

Heaven has showered me with fertile rain 

Threads of bliss have sewn my wounds

In your touch I feel my resurrection 

In your kisses I have my resuscitation

You, my eternal kin, my holy sin

“I’ll not write to you”

The womb of patience stretches darkly,
In the manner of an anxious ocean,

Ready to devour the fallen moon. 

If my words could’ve a soul,

While I am writing to you;

She will renounce her cloak of shyness.

Like someone recovered from dyslexia, 

She will be with a sharp euphoric taste of clarity.

There, you will see me at my pinnacle, 

Every piece & breath set & torn for you.

You will touch the gashes, silence had inflicted.

You’ll see;

How in a day centuries walk by,

How the waiting soil of hopes trembles.

You’ll learn,

The pointed heels of time have no mercy.

You, my canvas, have no mercy,

You don’t let me spread in all my colours,

You don’t let me complete my picture.

I’m incoherent like a thirst-riddled man,

For whom, there is no configuration of peace,

On his parched tongue, a new language emerges

It’s fear coated in yearning before everything turns blank.

Yet, How you’ll know? 

How you’ll know?

I’m not going to write to you; 

You’re a fabled home in a magic land,

There’s no secret door to you

Except my heart.


The womb of patience has burst 

And devoured me.

“Light is there”

The crucifying curve of dying moon

My soul screams in its mouth

It pierces my throat with the pale flickering of its thin form

And I find my voice walking on the pyre of hopes

But there’s a name 

It can salve the wounds

It can maim the big body of darkness

There’s a touch which can gouge the blindness of dreams

I’ve to con my way to that immortality

To nourish my thoughts 

To heal my tiredness

I want a morsel of beloved’s touch, 

a feather of his blessed kiss 

The silence coats my tongue with its sandpapery taste

This knowing has become a thorny noose 

And you know;

This waning moon smells like a butcher’s knife

I’m a lonesome tree in the desert of its cruel smile

Though my pride is adamant

My crown shivers for the nakedness of fear

My heart could burn the forests of questions

Yet the hell of distance can’t be doused by tears

Though my certitude, my answers are meagre 

In a contrite starved shape of inescapable love

Light is there

Light is there 


‪You’re not just a name ‬‪(A lyrical clasp around my sharp desire to speak) ‬

You’re not just a face 

(Brilliantly kissing the ardour of my body)

Nothing can identify you, as you

For you’re the magnitude of all love, lightening the world

And you’re the depth of all longing, possessing the universe

Nothing can know the heaven of your voice, within me 

Nothing can know the hell of your loss, within me

No sin is as delirious as the simplicity of loving you

No lust can anticipate the joy of breathing in your fragrance

Nothing can determine the eternity of your touch; the solace I travel towards yet can’t reach

You’re infinite, my magician

I can’t count or classify you

You’re horizon, you’re gravity

You’re the heart within the heart

And you’re the entirety of my being