Must be her

What abysmal plot is this devious life?

Lovers by day, strangers by night.

Masquerade, facade & charade.

Laughter, kisses, smiles & wait.

Drifting words with coffee on an afternoon.

Petrichor on the first day of monsoon.

Eyes, scent, embrace & wait.

Days going slow, but years running late.

Through the cracks of the draught of the scorched earth

As fast as the beating heart of a new birth

I will meet you again, far away from this maze.

My leather jacket, my bike; waiting for your embrace.

Oh killer of my heart, my sunshine, my divine.

Break on through to the other side.

Her mole, her eyes, her lips, her smile.

Her presence without my lips on her is a crime.

I remember her, but I forget, its a blur

If there is an end, it must be her.

Leave a comment