Odour of Lovelorn
May 22, 2013 1 Comment
Courtesy: LoadPaper
The ache in my heart will end
if my longing for you is fulfilled.
Till then I’ll be lovelorn.
To be able to love someone
the right amount must be bliss.
I hang between sanity
and insanity. I’m cursed.
‘Striking that balance is a struggle.’
Again not eveyone is fortunate
to know the kind of heart found only
in the lines of a poet
or in the music of a maestro
or in the colours of an artist.
Maybe between is the balance:
sane is too less and
insane is a mad obsession.
The moment when you smell
the perfect fragrance in a crowd
(the one you wanted to wear for years).
Such was the moment I met you.
‘Am I nothing but an odour to you?’
What’s left of us but odour?
That lasts as long as the memory of it.
What was left of me for you
when I left was odour on clothes.
And what was left of you for me
when you left was your odour on the pillow
What my Readers said.