Poetry

The Secret

This is weird
beautifully;
The silence in the air
Moonlight and the street lights shining upon your face,
This is weird
how secretly I am in awe
Reluctant
Refusing
and yet faintly clinging to the hope of a maybe…

This is weird
how slightly
cautiously
Your hands touch mine
pretending to be oblivious of this very fact…
You lay anticipating
or maybe it’s my imagination
In these moments of uncertainty
no confessions are made
I look around in gray scale
The air inside is charged
I speak
But I squeak
Poetry running in my head
but try hard as I may
I can’t say it loud.

This is weird
Not even a single glance of mine,
but I feel yours on me
Confused
but prolonged
I look at you
and I can’t hold your gaze back
Why you might ask
Why not you might ask
My head is blank
my heart just beats
And I don’t know
I don’t know what I am hiding,
Words won’t form right
I would stammer even inside my head
Don’t you see?
I can’t disclose it
Not yet
Not yet.

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