Just a Part-time Cynic

Of course I'm a romantic

Subscribing to

All the strictures of love;

Waiting for that epiphany

Where the world will stop

As we lay eyes on each other

for the first time.

There'll be sleepless nights,

Surely different from now,

When it will be for a sight

Of your flawless face

That my soul would pine.

It will be then

That I'd learn to live,

Find the meaning of my being;

These twenty years

Being but an excuse

Of an existence.

Of course I believe in love

And would like nothing else

But to lose myself 

(Whatever I have made of me)

In you.

But until then,

The glorious hour that is

When you've swept me

Off my feet,

Excuse me

I have other plans.

I intend to enjoy 

My half existence

Until it's time for love.

Frangipani Laced Memories

Bated breath.

Expectations that hurt.

An exquisite headiness,

Unexplained,

Undeserved.

Every inch of skin,

Aroused,

Excited

The teasing and caressing

Of the intoxicating Frangipani,

Only an unwitting accomplice

To the greater schemes

The ruthless and clever mechanisations

Fate has practiced to perfection.

The same inky sky,

That familiar serenade

Raindrops have sung before;

The treacherous wet earth

So seasoned in causing

feverish frenzies.

Nostalgia.

The slow poison

Of past memories

swirling in the veins.

The bittersweet longing

Of the once carelessly disposed

Drug of ecstasy.

The longing

The burning desire;

Nay, the uncontrollable need

to be in those arms,

Oh! this bane

This cruel call of insanity.

Impossible!

My dream it is unattainable

You walked away

Long ago.

I might as well return.

I am sure

I'll soon I get used to

his otherness.

Till then

I will just have to bear

The slush, the muck

The mess 

tonight's shower of fantasies

will leave behind.