The touch
Of textures, of finesse
The roughness of callouses,
And the glide of softness.
The touch
Of tints, of shades
The abyss of dark, void and evil,
The colours of light, bright and real
The Sun or the Moon
Their horizon grey,
Of Persephone and Hades,
Of each angel and every devil.
The touch
Of feelings, of emotions
The spiral of depression, rage, tears
The bubble of happiness, love and smiles
The pensiveness of past,
The hope for better years.
The touch
Of calm, of silences
At times, it is comfy, cozy and snug
At others, it is lethal, and deafening.
For in companionship, it's bitter as a medicine
In a lone heart, it's alcohol, a slow poison, a drug.
The touch of eyes, a gaze
Either tender, soft and giving
Or wild, unbounding and liberating
What is in the depth of that perusal
But either mere lust,
Or a love, passionate and forever-promising.
The touch of lips, a kiss
From that person
When is feathers, mellow and delicate,
Tis' a beginning of something special
Or a closure.
When is heated, fervent, carnal and deliberate,
Tis' the passion in a relation, named or not
Or is but mere empty pleasure.
The touch
Of anything,
And everything.
Becomes a memory.
Of roads and colors,
Senses and views,
Pictures and people
Promises and flutters.
A touch
Becomes a ghost of that feeling.
A phantom that haunts you or,
A dream you cherish.
A piece you once had,
One that slipped away,
Another that lingered.
YOU ARE READING
What happens when thoughts overflow? This.
PoetryThis is a collection of a few poetries I've written since a very long time. Every instance when I felt overwhelmed by anything, these are what were born. Some of these poems are written with a lot of emotions, my emotions which were on the brink of...
