When you tell me
You need time
To get over love
You gave to be mine,
You fail to measure
One tiny thing:
This feeling, like
A golden ring,
Moulded between us,
In passion and desire,
Thoughts and promises,
All sorts of fire –
Forged despite hate,
Friends and others,
Resenting fathers,
Forgiving mothers.
Time is given
To those who need it.
To practise logic
And all that feeds it.
Time is needed
When you choose to forget.
What time need I,
If love is to be met?
There is not much that can be said
Between two hearts that lie in three,
For now, on some quiet and warm bed,
The sky seems as quiet as quiet can be.
Each heart passion roams intertwined,
Every hope resurrects fresh and wild;
Tears, for the time, stay far declined,
And all of love rests supinely beguiled.
The need for more, for the time, is silent;
Orgasms are all but forgotten now;
Arms lie filled, anxiety lies spent,
The future seems like it was begotten now.
The story of the sky is just beginning.
The dawn too, for now, has been stilled.
Eyes are sated and are drowsily singing.
Everything empty, for now, has been filled.
It’s all a matter of time:
Love evolves into honesty
And the tube light glare
Rips through at some point.
The thing that was once hidden,
Under the guise of empathy,
Lies naked for all to see,
Like a broken body after rape,
Open to the lenses of posterity
And a boggling public
That cranes to see which part
Was most abused.
The need to hide exists no more.
Justice demands sight and hearing.
A lynching is required.
Love is stronger than romance
And it can withstand a slap,
Or two.
Compromise is a grey area.
Love was not the same,
Either for Helen or Mumtaz –
Tom had jumped on a sofa
And after begetting children
Of blood, they say,
It all ended amicably.
I mean, the jumping ended.
I think myself grand enough
To think mine will last.
I shall let the Trojans in though;
Because I love horses.
(That is a different kind of love.)
Hearts Still Care 
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