Sometimes love
Comes in fits and starts
Sputtered, at night,
Raw, unedited, fierce
Touch and word struggle
To convey
the heart and its unruly needs
Then during the day
We go about our business
Rarely, a word between us,
As if the night,
These nights
Didn’t exist
Some days, I look at you,
And all I can think of are your words
And how strange all this seems
The intimacy of the night
And the reality of the day
You are different, somehow,
When the day breaks
Preoccupied with what lies ahead
These nights unleash, love,
Pent up feelings explode
Moments
The food of hearts
Untraceable during the day
Sashikala Premawardhane
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.
June 28, 2013 at 6:50 pm
walking in the city we know
strangers and
words unfound
as if nights only know
the language
locked in a “draft” box
as it never seen
“send” and “delivered” …….