Blogging · Fiction · poetry · Prose · Thoughts

Her Stories…


like woven strands telling
endless tales of love
and desire, and I
I longed to be
a part of them,

Bits and pieces
unknown tales from her past
her life unfolded, and spread itself
along the lines of my memory

She waited, and wrote
when inspiration hit her
the true, the just, the remembered
while I, sat on the sidelines
hoping, waiting,

A chance to know
the person she wrote about
the past, I wasn’t a part of
running parallel with her dreams

I stopped, at a junction on the way
towards her enlightenment,
the inroads and the lack of clarity
caused pauses and gaps, raising doubt
in my mind,
doubt of ever knowing her truly,

My dreams became troubled
not without the want of her
the want of us, being together
as one,

I chanced to meet her
somewhere in some dream
one that she remembered, more than
the few minutes that it took
to forget,

I implored her
to consider another path,
one that ran in my direction
one that had me in the throes of her passion,
the one who she would wake up beside
the one who couldn’t live without

Dreams are unfortunately
made of non tangible stuff
disappearing in the morning light,

All of my striving, and all of my plans
burning off into molecules of water
putting the blue in the morning skies
while making me disappear in the mists

Just another story line
in her ever increasing imagination…





3 thoughts on “Her Stories…

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