Friday, November 18, 2011

Sometimes I think: do you think of me sometimes?

Tuesday, November 15, 2011


A metronomic ceiling fan measures my hearbeats: a deja vu of separation.

I remember your brow against my breast; do you remember my stifled sobs from the next bedroom?

Now the night alone thinks of me tenderly.

Friday, November 11, 2011


The dear doctor decided
I should be cured, forever
Neither pain, nor anguish
No more tears

Now, I look at you smiling
From the LCD screen, and
In vain, search for sorrows

Only a faint memory
Of a tortured existence
Murmurs from across keyholes

May be the dear doctor meant
I would be fine, forever
As the pills give love parole