The One Without the Title

Maybe it’s just a clicking of nails on squares, just letters typed in monochrome,

Maybe it’s nothing but dreams of what should be…

Maybe the hot chocolate and blushing roses, the gentle dances, sweet love proses,

Maybe they’re all just parts of new-old memories…

But it’s love, still at the end of the day,

Worlds apart, still bright,

Maybe in the stars we all see at night,

Under the sky we share,

Love is love no matter where we are,

Maybe love is love, tonight.

Always.

Love is in virtual presence, and lonely smiles…

Love is in the shared sky and affordable stars!

And in the web intangible that wraps us close, in the distant light of modem’s glow..

In tired eyes and bruised fingers, of loving laters and belated letters….

In the long lost warmth of a true-felt hug, once as close as dreams

In the wandering joy of music heard together in that dream…

In the shared past of a distant presence and emotions unbound in faultless stars…

Maybe hidden in ink-bound cream, leather and words of joining hearts…

And through eternity itself we shall burn bright, weaving our love

Into the very pattern of the intricate web of time with the fiery tendrils of passion…

In love of defiance, in laws of irrationality.

In heard silences and resonant remembrance…

Of the taming of the shrews, of songs unsung,

Passions unbridled, we shall dance on…

In misstepped dances, mistaken melodies,

Misplaced rhymes and misdirected lives…

Of missing lovers and mesmerising loves…

Of burning up in the pyres we sing, mingling love & lust…

Of decadence we sing tonight, transcending the mundanities, we dance!!!

Four sets of fingers typed away at furious pace. Four screens rang with incoming alerts. Four faces glowed.

Micro tales of tiny hearts, pulsating with cigarette smoke, love, lust and biblical sins…

Poetry in fits and starts; Life, in endless sonatas…

And we dance till the end of colours…

When everything was monochrome, except happiness…

We painted rainbows into the musty essence of time…

And be the golden treasures at her painted foot, resting the rest of happiness and love

As golden as the hair on Helen’s head…

As golden, as the glinting ouroboros of eternity on her finger…

As golden as the lonely sands on the sunset beach…

Drunk in essence of 26-lettered passion?

What passion, what pain… and what nostalgic drunkenness!

– Antarleena Saha, Debdip Maitra, Shakya Bose, Upasruti Biswas

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2 comments

  1. antarleena · January 4, 2015

    😀

    Liked by 1 person

  2. antarleena · January 4, 2015

    Reblogged this on antarleenasaha and commented:
    feverish flow of 26 letters? we have it here! 😀

    Like

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