Surrender

We speak like rattling rain
And fumble through inhibitions
Before we reach each other.
I dip each word, in the inky darkness of my mind and hang it over the moon.
And he,
He glorifies the crescent
Day after day after day.
We aren’t meant for each other
We don’t intend to be.
Rather
We exchange random pieces of mind
The puzzle latches perfectly.
And then we dance
In our heads, together
Surrender to the whirling
Of this dervish, the universe
He knows, and I know
This is what there is
He knows and I know
This is all that there will ever be.

Someday,
we shall meet over the moon
And read to each other
Every poem of the past

Someday,
When the moon looks brighter
Know, that we took our poems back.

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Chandrama Deshmukh

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When poetry touches the soul, everything starts making sense. The inner world seems real and the outer one becomes bearable. When thoughts mixed with words travel through the empty spaces of mind, poetry happens to me. It always has been a mysterious force guiding me through. With two published books and one amaturish blog, I consider myself blessed to have started this journey. An old diary with think brown cover and an over used, end bitten pen. That’s where real magic begins! May you find your undiscovered meanings in my poems. May existence make sense. Even if just for a little while.
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