in the trillion cells across your body

you define and forge what I am,

in your thoughts, in your heart

like a ghost taking shape-

And how do I define you

my gone dreams butterfly,

spreading wings far

for you cannot be a cocoon again

once you learned to fly.

You are a voice, a gate

to all the wishes that men

quietly throw to the wind,

you are the words

I wished to scribbled within

to keep locked inside

warming my coldest winter-

You are mine,

alone I can hold you forever

in my skin, where you hide

to become but a dream,

only I can define-


“I heard the breeze whisper your name to the trees. And the flowers giggled smiling at the leaves. I and my loneliness keep talking about you.”

― Avijeet Das


Way to a heart


Way to a heart


If I love you in the distance,

will my muse find a way to your heart?

Stealing dreams that you guard

somewhere kept in the sea of your eyes

or the curve of your lips-

Do I kiss you to gather your words

dripping slowly in my mouth?

They part flavors of longing

and passion with hints of the unknown-

Will I find you in my bed when my hands

search the shape of your waist?

Confused dreams by my wants

late at night when your image embraced-

If I love you from far,

will my muse find a way to your heart?


“What I want is for you to touch me in ways that hands and teeth and skin cannot.”

― J. Andrew Schrecker





Whispering your name

on butterflies wings my thoughts fly

through a dusty window-

And what is it you became

since that first word kissed by your hands

found its way to this weary heart?

I dream of you

my precious unfulfilled wish,

pendent desires looking for a home

in faraway lands

where your smile feeds my streams

of loose emotions-

Will you think of me tonight?

Concealed dreams

finding a way to your pillow

with restless hands

fantasizing a touch to ignite

on your skin small implosions,

while your lips quietly tremble

whispering my name-


“I spin worlds where we could be together. I dream you. For me, imagination and desire are very close.”

― Jeanette Winterson





You flourish,

petals open softly at night

welcoming desires I scribble under eyelids

heavily dragging  dreams close to midnight-

And I hold on to whatever is that incite

my mind to shape these mirrors reflecting

the amazing you I crave to know,

discovering the intricacies infecting

my cells with this longing

that suffocates in my bed-

Would you dream of me this once?

Allow me to find shelter for my wants

in those places you set apart

for those who touched your soul

while I sift through words

to find you, belonging

within the walls of my heart-


“The heart has its reasons which reason knows not.”

― Blaise Pascal

Frost and Fire


Frost and Fire


And then I wonder

how it is possible you are like snow

but burn much hotter

than what I’m made

of sand and sun,

to adore the flakes of winter storms

and radiate light that shifts and forms

my salty dreams

of pale white skin-

And how you hold a winter heart

that doesn’t melt with all the heat

burning within,

and then I wonder,

if we are extremes

and our lives so far apart

why do I seek a northern star

to shine on me the brightest light,

and crave your lips of crimson red

to burn a path where winter meets

my summer wants across my bed-


“What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.”

― John Steinbeck

A Pause


A Pause


You are a pause between each breath,

 a pulsing life inside my lungs

that flies around before I exhale

and all of you becomes impaled

in every cell and nerve that strive-

For just two seconds I hold you in

and whatever is that stays behind

it sooth my soul,

it feeds my mind,

and lights the fires deep within-


“It is not that you fall in love with a beautiful person; the process is just the opposite. When you fall in love with some person, the person looks beautiful. It is love that brings the idea of beauty in, not vice versa.”

― Osho, Intelligence: The Creative Response to Now





There is a spell I cannot break

or want to-

Unraveling thoughts weaved

in the fabric of who I am,

an idea transformed into an image

of who you are outside

while I hold my own

of how I see you inside.

There are no answers known

to explain this magical link

of longing across your ‘verse,

this aching feeling so closely tied

to the words and the ink

of your inspiration-

And how it will break

this passing yearn to be deified

by your mind and heart?

You are but a ship sailing away

while I’ll remain stuck

by the waves on this shore,

alone to dream and quietly adore

every moment and gesture,

every word that permeates

all my longing

with a spell I won’t break-


“I will show you a love potion without drug or herb, or any witch’s spell; if you wish to be loved, love.”

― Charles Lindberg