At the moment

I am contented in the moment. The moment of now. I overreach unvoluntarily. A strong sense of happiness flows in me. And I smile. I smile at how I possessed her in the moment, how she belonged to me. For ever. And then she wakes me up to the reality with her musical alphabets waiting to be answered back. You dont listen to me, she would protest. And I search for her in her eyes. I a everything she assures. I believe.
And suddenly the I find myself missing. Missing in her world. Like a old furniture kept aside in the newly painted house. I find a piece of myself which no more gets the sense of possessing her. She has a life, and its a definition with people other than me. I am a hidden definition. I am unauthorized. She has a routine to happiness, the routine bypasses me. I feel. But I know this feeling is false, false for I know her and I know the truthfulness she has for me. And I exist some where inside her. I know. Always, every moment. She knows. The routine ends and I get a place in the definition again. And the old furniture is placed in the center of the painted house, again. To be admired and adored.

I want you....

.. is what I say. It comes all over to me when you are not with me. Even for a moment. I feel abandoned. The body feels dilapidated. No strength I could find. Anywhere. I just feel the pain of a sharp cut. I want you is what I say. And find how wrong I am. How significantly wrong I am. I don't want you.
I need you. I need each moment to hold on to you. I need you to live the moment you are away. I need you to rejoice, to hope, to create, to admire, to love. I need you to live.
I dont want you. I need you.

The eyes

"You deserve the best" she declared. Looking right into the eyes. I guess she was looking for her own image in my eyes. I don't remember taking breath, with my eyes transfixed into hers. Tiny black eyes, carrying thousand large dreams. The small droplet in there told the saga of love they carried. She loves my eyes she would say. I will smile, at her, at what she said. I wanted to speak with unbound emotion but restrained. I wanted to say, I don't love your eye. Only. I love the tiny black pupil where I find my self reside. Like a black pearl on a white fur. I love the small droplets that moist your eye just to magnify the beauty. I love the eye lashes curved to perfection, to protect the dreams. I love the way she moves her eyes in almost slow motion and I follow is all along. Not to let go even a single glance. Its precious to me.And she looks back, with the same reassuring love. Oh the pleasure. And I behold it for eternity.

Truly
Abinash

Still Lost

In the late evening, or early morning. In the broad day light or in the night's darkest side. Amidst a million people or marooned in an island. The sense is as intense as its now. The sense of this shadowy feeling. The feeling of being lively.
A repulsive desire drifts me in an garbled fashion. And I feel lost. lost between dreams and reality. Love and rejection. Smile and frown. A node of yes and a node of no. A self too fragile and a self too strong. A life with her and a life alone. A day with her and a day in empty thoughts. A hope and a realization.
But all that remains is the fact I fell lost. I look too despicable. I jerk back to reality. I jerk back to now. Leaving the sweetness of the fantasies alone marooned in some isolation. Her being would clearly transit form reality to just a desire, from I reached her to I am lost. I jerk back to reality and I move on. Smiling. Still Lost. :)

Truly
Abinash