Language.

Speak
In words from any language.
In my ears and not in front of my lips.
In their sound, be your breaths
In their music, be your diction. That special way
In which only your tongue rolls.
In whose syllables, only you gasp. And when done
In speed, they wet your lips.
In your special way. Just yours.
Into my ears, play with sounds of your language.
In process, start speaking like you would to who understood.
In musical harmony let them flow. Soon
In this euphoria, tell me of love. How it is to be
In love, do that with the thunder and thrill of it. Falling
In love, show that with your hands, demonstrating.
In it, tell me of loss. Of deceit
In life and love, as I feel your voice heavier. Shift
In to your comfort. I understand not a word. But
In a rendezvous as such, I’d rather not. Don’t touch me yet, I am
In the same world as yours. I feel the depth and color
In which you slept and dreamt. The stories and their necessity
In your being. Tell me more as I sit.
In my ears and not in front of my lips.
In words from any language.
Speak.



(I feel love better when I am not in-love)
:)

Drugs.

It has been long since I wrote anything for myself. Not for an assignment or to know if I have a creative capability. I haven't broken down andstretched out to the keyboard impulsively hitting keys to form words which came uninhibited. I am not feeling anything in particular, but I do feel lonely. No, lonely is sad. Alone is better. I can sit in long auto rides without music or messaging, just looking outside or even at the mirror not thinking of anything or anyone in particular. Maybe my disposition has altered or transformed, maybe i have taken change too honestly or maybe I stopped finding beauty in little humane actions. Whatever it may be, but I have changed. And there is one thing I miss the most.

Dopamine. 

Reaching out. Not too far. Right across.
Just few inches. Arms with hands. Fingers.

Slowly. Coyly. Perfectly. To me. Near me.

Into me.

Serotonin.
Unaware I was. Until. Until now. Tonight.
Arms crossed. Torso heavy. Swift movements.
Pressed breasts that hurt. Not too much. Not too little.
Just perfect.

Endorphines.
Breaths. Heavy and loud. In my ear. Faster.
Rapid and lavish. Wet and warm. Feet with toes.
Toes wrestling. Hair falling. Breaking. On the sheet.
On me.

Amandamide.
Sweet sweat. Pearls. Droplets. Or whatever.
But bliss. Inner-body experience. Echoes.
Of voices and laughter. Not momentory. Will stay like you.
Will you?