A Quick Encounter

sweet movement, too harmonious for this sphere 

each limb danced to the rhythm of our desire

restless, delicate touch, aggressive thoughts

those sparks created in a long blink 

we stared at the night showering the orange 

the poetry of the city, you said, I stared

unreal, negative, love,love was no good

then, you uttered again and all cynicism shattered

in the moment, it was just that, a moment, a fraction of life

the present so bewitching, so real yet so fragile

the present who flirts with the memories seduced

by the past wounds and the future hopes

always traveling back, the journey is shorter-sweeter

traveling back, uneasy thoughts conquer quicker,

the certainty of loosing the charming retrospection of the night 

quarrels with the hope of an arranged order, a sweet destiny 

questions I have many, pensive I am 

while a tornado travels delicately through my insides

no inhibitions? no shame? no silly games?

voicing those hopes only breeds dismay 

talking to my brain, refuting the fake possibilities 

missing something I never had-common yet deviant 

a puzzle with no image, a street with no end

a mystery, an art, the alchemy of destiny 

then I stare at that graveyard of glitzing dots

wondering, do they decide? do old lights hold the power?

lights who see all, know all, and beguile the human minds who think they see

those dots that adorn the vast darkness inside you

diversion, the split, the morphing, the transformation

something so passionate and lively 

turned into the most self destructing power

of something ungraspable from the start 

dashing thoughts abandon me 

no sleep, no berate, just the memory of the lingering

piece that completed the puzzle with no image,

of a hopeful sign's sudden apparition in the never ending street 

the new freedom was now new nostalgia

as if all my life I was oblivious about being trapped in a storm 

for the first time, the raindrops gently brushed my arms

shaking me to the thundering reality that is feeling 

feeling with your eyes and lips, feeling outside and in 

feeling the gleeful memories accompanied by grins

feeling the desire of craving something so uncertain 

feeling the hope that our eyes will trifle and toy once more 

something so short has expanded

has flown higher and higher

the red balloon you accidentally let go

that reaches heights you could have never imagined 

perfectly flawed you are

your long vocals- hard to understand 

your warm smile, the melodic embrace,

the candor thoughts and shared loves

rapacious desire to know more, to swim deeper

short time was given to us by those dead balls of light

that work in ways too uncanny 

lights: please grant me the time to fight 

I'm bewildered about the idea of you,

of the sketch I have drawn of your soul,

one where you love the silence 

and the power it has to light the darkness in you

to voice those words you never knew you had 

the idea of your unpretentious heart 

the idea of you being unconditional 

ideas of you created by me in one instant,

in one bat of eyelashes, in one tick of the clock 

outside thoughts fail to splotch the polished canvas of you

simply because you read Huxley and Hesse 

in a world where people sin more than dream,

play just to display,  lie more than cry and 

cherish the shoes rather than the path 

the memory of you will always dwell in the highest of places

It will be kept in a crystal shrine to examine its fragility 

to admire its vulnerable soul and to nurture it with the past and fate

a quick encounter with the sentiment we are designed to feel,

we met, shared words we swore we would not reveal 

the sketch of you is by memory, yet is utterly real 

those dashed lines will forever hold your unforgettable appeal