Rain And Yearning

By Mayank Gupta

I am writing you a poem For I don't know how I should sign a letter. Kafka once said- You're both the quiet and the confusion of my heart. I can't stress enough how true it is. You're both -like the peace and torrents of a beautiful waterfall. All I can do to lessen this pain of longing is to inflict some more. I caress bougainvillea as if they were your cheeks. People say I have become pale, little do they know my body is all gore, it stabs me to look at the Orion but I keep looking at it, in the hope that may be all the blood that oozes out could wash away the hurt. I never knew I could be loved this much. When I look at the past I don’t know how to visit those memories. Perhaps I would love again kiss again

but I doubt I would ever cup someone's cheeks stare into their eyes for long and end up biting their nose. There is this yearning that lives inside me I tell people it is for the rain. You're my rain. I send you love wherever you are but please don't send me any for I won't know what to do with it. Honestly, I yearn for it. I know I will eagerly look for it grab it and put it in my pockets and use it to talk to the jade plant to talk to the streets dogs to the lakes and the ducks and love the world in return 'cause you are in it. And I want you to take care of that heart 'cause I am in it.

By Mayank Gupta