Where love was first born ..
It was one of those starless nights
when the lack of hope left me counting
waves on an imaginary bay in Bengal.
No goldfish could lead the way
to the phosphorescence of the dawn,
no drops or breeze could twist the claws
of the Coral trees, infinite silence.
It was the tide that spoke first
through long lost, jade bottles,
when shadows of lust sat near by,
to warn me, that the colors of my dress
will never match the desire in his eyes.
The sky stunk of loneliness,
of invisible hearts and grieve, and
the thought of couples walking on a beach in Goa
was the only painless flashback left.
It was a night in a loveless universe
where in between whirlpools and teal wind,
crippled from the eclipse demons,
lost the battle with the indigo veils of the sea
and the promise of the coming morning
no longer had the taste of sorrow.
The after- dusk clouds, the mermaids,
the ghosts of shipwrecks skipped the sunrise
because once the light triumphed over
the satin sand, I saw the footsteps,
blazing a trail to the edge of sweet madness,
where love was first born.
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© 2012 Broken Sparkles