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I would never write a poem about love-
But on that night you showed me,
There was nothing left to write but Love.

I would never write a poem about love-
But on that night as your drunk words played
sweet inviting rhythm in my drunk ears,
You showed me there was nothing left to write but
Love.

I would never write a poem about love:
But on that night as I felt your warm long
fingers playing soft tingling circles on my navel,
You showed me there was nothing left to write
but Love.

I would never write a poem about love:
But on that night as we took turn in a single
menthol cigarette,
As my dried lips touched its edge- wet
with your wine flavoured saliver-
As I hoped it was your lips instead,
You showed me there was nothing left to write
but love.

I would never write a poem about love-
As I bid you good night,
As I wrapped you in my arms for a hug- tight,
As I pulled back from you and whispered-
“May I taste your lips tonight?”
As you leaned forward and closed your eyes
and opened your mouth,
As I reached for you and parted my lips too
to finally open yours,
As I grabbed your waist and I pulled you even closer,
Our groins joined together,
As everything became nothing,
As everyone became no one,
As you became the one,
As we became one,
As our mouth found each other,
And I sucked your tongue soft and slow and
then harder,
All at once ; ooh so tender,
As everything around us on the rooftop blew
like fireworks in the dark,
in the city wherein it is forbidden,
You showed me that if all of these were not
Love then this is not,
and I still have not written a poem about Love.

     #MyPenWillWrite.

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4 thoughts on “I WOULD NEVER WRITE A POEM ABOUT LOVE.

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