Saturday, October 8, 2016

You and Me...

(You and me)....
Kate's undiscovered memories of her unreal life,
Her house on the broken bridge,
Far from gingerly chaos.
That filthy Sunday morning,
She used to gaze him,
Unevenly naked through the gleams of dew.
He burned his pen in fire,
And ashes of blue ink were floating,
And they were glowing,
Like last flame of each burned cigarette.
There was a book of Shakespeare on his shelf,
With a love inscription written by him.
The room was full of aromatic smell of coffee,
Spilled on the table.
There was a broken piano,
near the porch,
Where they used to dance,
On that prisoned tune.
Once he wrote a divine story,
On her body and curled with kisses.
But she never felt his skin,
Smelled him and kissed his breath.
She wanted to grope him,
With love and affection.
Out of that unreal book.
They were only the characters of a story,
Without breath and flesh,
But they unleashed their limits,
And drowned completely in supernatural insanity..
By: kirti raj 

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