Amidst cacophony of claustrophobic love,
I tried for a breezy waiver of life,
A fistful of guiltless breaths, on a mourning morning
From the obsession and compulsion
Seemingly named and renamed as love
Yes, I am intrigued at the guilt that
Embraces the most unconditional form
Of expressing oneself,
If that’s love, so ensconced with pangs of
Unbearable guilt, the secret rendezvous
Life so carelessly splashed on our face?
Is that love? – Which rarely peeks out of the
Corners of this well-word body
Love confuses me, as grandly as lovers’ do.!
I better write about lack of love with passion
About love with reckless abandon..!!
© Sai Padma ://IPR All Rights Reserved