Venus Transition

Drew them up in my notes app

And sent them a bunch

For those withering petals

Won't simply stay as long

As I want them to be

Near them, near me.

Georgette

Cotton and lace

Sewn in with flowers

From paradise

And illicit escapades

Into a wedding dress

In white and blue shade

Something old

I am told

It was one in which

Grandma tried to run away

Feminine rage

Feminine gaze

Feminine sight

Feminine might

On the aisle

As the bride

Walks in wearing it.

A symbol so old

Of constricted time

And wild thoughts

In the train's fold

That

Grandma asked

Almost reliving her days

"Now is the time darling, do you want to escape?"

Deems to me as being unfathomable

For however much I write

And scribble

The ink has always words left to say

And more insanity to convey

To the reader, to the writer

To his eyes, to mine.

I find myself to be writing

To halt seconds and minutes of time

Till I have a treasure chest of saved moments

Which I shall relive again and again

In despair, in madness, in slaughter

In murder, in glory, in happiness.

My words are too shallow and crude

To convey how I much I yearn to say

Sagas and sagas of folklore and tales

Left untold, catching dust and falling pale.

I wish I wrote with the madness

Which ran inside these veins

For then, these stories wouldn't have been just mine to own

For then, this piece of insanity wouldn't have just my name.

I hope you and I abound

At the same time

In abundance, in yearning

In satisfaction and in love

In some era

I hope we are a match

Which resembles the heavens above.

In some era

I hope I learn

To shed my fears and overcome my tears

And you learn that there is no shame

In feeling aflame

For someone who no one has ever desired.

Sometimes time transpires

The unlikeliest of events

And so in the Halley's Comet of hope

I yearn for an era

In which you and I drink

Vials of love,

Even if it were a poisonous dose,

For I am willing to cease my breaths

For I know

That in some era

I will be so in love

That for him, I'll be bold enough

To embrace death.

Just looking into your eyes

Watching the riveting show they put up

Which sparkles in blue and green

And sometimes under the sun

The play turns ultramarine

And I fall in love

Over and over again.

Sometimes they exhibit shades of brown

A masterpiece drawn and painted

By an amalgamation of the greatest artists and poets

And hung there to become a hue

Of your irises.

I stand there utterly speechless

Dumbfounded, awestruck and inspired

As I think how the days during which I only admired

Your coruscant beauty from afar are over

And now I see,

The most beautiful painted articulation of me

In your eyes

Two incandescent drawings, for eternity.

Delicately with her fingers

Perched atop a stool

Hands on the kitchenette

She has little smudges of flavour

On her fingertips

Tangerine in its vivid tints

Slowly licks her fingers leaving moist imprints

Tasting the hue of the sun on her tongue

Remembering the touch of someone

Who would once

Put de-seeded pieces in her mouth

Contrasts it with how

The seeds of the oranges she eats now

Have to be spat out.

I find myself

In the arms of the morning

Kissing the sun

As the dew slowly drips

Down my lips

I etch myself to life

I etch myself to my breaths

And I find myself smile

After a million days.

The green seems greener

The cardinals have turned to clover

And now I wish like earlier

On dreams and on dandelions

I feel finite yet infinite

I feel unsolved yet resolved

And for once

My mouth curls up just right

My face flushed

My eyes shining

After quite some while

Today, I look alive.

To look across the room

And just absorb the movement

But not embody it

To see tears and fears

In brief moments of silence

And read everything about the person

In a single verse

Reflected through the poetry

Composed by the face.

I have learned the art

From its artists -

The water that trickles unknowingly

Down my feet, the wind which goes

Unnoticed.

I observe everything

Every inch of stretch line on the forehead

Every wrinkle near the lips

Every smile which lingers on the cheeks

The creases of which I can still see

I see everything,

Yet I see nothing of me.

In the saddest parts of you

And petunias in places

Which you have scarred

A garden on your wrist

A meadow on your back

And your heart covered with

Coruscant flowers -

Till all of you is spring

And perfume wafts from your skin

Into the dull autumn air

To make it fragrant.

The ecstasy of being burnt

And then smoking for someone

Who lit all of you in flames

All by a small click of a lighter

And then slowly devours you

Till nothing is left

Flicks you right away after

Into some street garbage

Till you are not found anywhere, anymore

And all that is left of you

Is the little smoke

Which lingers on in the air

Every single day.

"What monstrosity are you, my darling?"

The words came alive and replied

"A demon fit for all your yearnings".