For the love of Pablo Neruda

Many know how to be with one.

Some know how to appreciate one.

Few know how to keep one.

Still fewer know how to hold onto one.

Yet

Only a handful know how to love one.

The following is an excerpt from a poem penned down by one of my favorite writers for whom I have something akin to that of  a crush. He also belongs to that handful category of people who truly knew how to love a woman :

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.

My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.

Her voice. Her bright body. Her inifinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.

Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms

my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

The Bridge That Let's Me down.

The view from the top.

Fear.

Sometimes from the Height.

Sometimes from the Width. 

A Riveting Man

There is no telling

Nothing more compelling

Than a man who can hold on to his woman as if there is no letting go

And one who's sense of rhythm, can scorch the dance floor.

One death for one life

Off the shores of Pambam Bridge. Madurai

Pierce.

Pierce through a bit more.

There is still much suffering left to endure.

For the day is done

and my time has come.

to die silently

So that the Moon can breathe

A Blind Man's Bluff

She thinks about the first time she met him, and how she thought she saw something there behind his eyes

the spark

the soul

the kindness

but now she looks at him again and sees it was only a mirrored reflection she mistook for a sign.

it was only him-looking-at-her that made the light

and now that he looks away

his world is darkness

but with a blindness even he can't see.