The only poem this blog will ever host

[This was written quite some time ago, its just time to post it...]

We sit on the bank of the river of time, or perhaps of timelessness

Our fingers inches apart on the ground, yet never touching

Too afraid of all the worldly meanings the action might betray

Yet what do I have to fear from you?

One who can look into my eyes and know the very depth of my soul

Who sees in my trembling hands all my insecurities

And dissolves them into nothingness by casually brushing my cheek

One who can trace the falling tear right into my heart

And while I weave a tapestry of lies to hide behind

I see my truth reflected in the silence of your gaze

How did you know me so well?

How did you awaken the lost little girl without a word?

How did you make your way through all those deliberate barriers?

Without breaking any of them, or at least not in consciousness

Who are you to me? Friend, Lover, Protector –

All the words seem so shallow and fake

For I have seen others play those parts, and play them well

Do you play them better? Not really, no –

Yours is a different role altogether, one not in the script

Like an actor never on stage yet forming the very essence of the play

In your words I find my existence reflected

Explained as if to a child, a simple yet magical dream

And yet I am afraid to ask you to repeat them

To look in your eyes when you speak them

Afraid of that one false note, that one flicker of gaze

Afraid it will all fall apart in jagged bloodstained shards

And there on the edge of the lost stream of time

I am afraid to reach out lest, I don’t feel your touch