Tuesday, May 24, 2011


The sisterly threads tied in our notions
takes me to her gentle world every time
she makes a way to look into my
 misreckoned world.
I find in her- an unconventional cheer
some impalpable moments, the moment
she reads my face and laugh
“you aint that beautiful now”.
The holy nights used to fancy
 under our blue stars
 when she warmed my numbness
with her saintly arms.
Yearning to stumble one such evening
again, to wear the foolish
delight, of her being a fool
again, in front of my eyes.
Snow white is gone, now no river flows
in my room, see the canvas
in our heart getting lusterless again, for
I can now only wish you.
The rabbitholes long to see us, they
told me,  the giggle, the laughter
we so apart, the hearts don’t match
or this is an illusion.

Last noon, you came to me, a
revelation offered, and I fuzzed,
there lies a kid, who wants a
friend, a companion, a sister.
There goes my bode, you child
I know “I am not that beautiful now”
but I will make you beautiful..


Andreas said...

We are the weft woven through the warp - the warp being love: tightly wrought strings of longing. It makes me laugh to think of it: how long I've tried to deny that I am such a longing. Talk about being a fool! And a coward!

I like reading words that make my soul feel soft and aching; words that are like careful fingers touching a wound. Your words are such words.

Thank you.

Anna :o] said...

O Wow Monika - this sort of aroused warm dreamy feelings in me! Lovely!

I can't write like you - the passionate play, artistry and understanding of words. Wish I could.

Anna :o]

Monika said...

Oh Thank you so much Anna. I am obliged.

Monika said...

I am glad Andreas you could relate! thanks!