Thursday, May 08, 2008

Our love affair

The grit in my eye,
The shadow in yours,
They wander all over me,
I flush,
Toy with my fingers,
Warmth that brandy never brought,
You state,
I disagree,
I smile,
A frown sprinkles on your forehead,
You speak,
I argue,
I smile,
The frown grows deeper,
Your feet shift,
You withdraw,
I flounder,
You look behind me,
I turn to look too,
When I come back,
You’re gone.
Far.
Going further still.
I clasp your shoulder,
And ask you to stay,
You shrug me away,
You shrug me away.

Perhaps a thought I was,
Concocted when the rain kissed our heads,
And now evanescent,

Decaying shreds.

The folly was mine,
To ask, to hold, to clasp,
And as the grey expanse from him to me stretched,
I clasped tighter,
The folly was mine,
To smother, when I wanted to love,
To yell, when I wanted to whisper,
I sharpened the knife,
He cut me with it.

One last time,
I stand in your way,
You shrug me away,
You shrug me away.


This time, I walk away.

5 comments:

Deepshikha said...

I just loved it Rags. v touching, but are you talking about someone here, or its the random you again!!!
Deepu

Ragini said...

Deep: I leave it for you to perceive. I'm glad it touched you somewhere.

push said...

I sharpened the knife.
He cut me with it...

and she walks away in the end. its beautiful, i love the ending more than anything. you gave her strength in her defeat.

wow. i think you made me understand something in my own sub conscious!

i wrote this poem almost two years ago. i never understood why i brought in a knife. i didnt understand what it symbolised.
i get it now.. its our own love, the knife, its control that we're handing over, the power to affect us.. yes i get it now, thanks to you!
http://blindedblueteddy.blogspot.com/2007/09/forest.html

Babushka said...

courageous and empowering.

Ragini said...

Push & Babs: I'm SO delighted that you drew courage and a better understanding of yourselves from this. When we give into love, we lay down the gun to our defence. And the other side can strike any time. We become so vunerable, so weak. And it hurts like hell! But then, we're strong women. We take the gun right back into our hands and shoot. And life moves on :)
Push, I'm happy. Will read your poem.