Writing Like My Man

By Keerthana BS

Whenever I remember her,

I see the way she wears her hair,

Loose strands breaking patterns like her;

How she laughs at my broken jokes,

Telling me I should laugh more often;

I remember her smile,

Mainly in her brown eyes and less on lips;

She checks out my shirt for holes 

And calls me sexy in my faded shorts.

She calms my flames of failures,

But fans my fire of passion;

She hugs me like am her sunset,

For she raises me every day from darkest night;

She spends my night with kiss in sleep,

Smiling like a crescent moon in between;

She owns my gallery with goofy pictures,

Yet is etched like a Vermeer in my heart;

She says the rains teach you how to dream,

For the earth dries n blooms again like me;

She overpowers me with weight of love,

Yet gently holds my hand when in fear;

She smells my head before I leave,

And says I should be bottled with Jasmine;

I think not of the future for she is here,

And i think not of yesterday for she is here.

By Keerthana BS