Young Love

All of my being

syncs and flows


quite desperately

to all or any ideas of love

love oozes

love gushes

at any hint of love

love whirls, swirls and hurls around

there’s no other way for love to go

I am calling its name

I am curling my lips

I hold onto its meaning with reverence

love fills and drops

then fills again

stay long with me,

forever, I pray,

why always a wave?

I secretly ask,

To crave or lack, it doesn’t respond,

simply smiles


then leaves

I am empty where it lived,

I look for it’s presence in memory

it hides somewhere I cannot go,

I simply call it

I pretended to understand its needs

I will let love keep its flow,

I pledge what I cannot keep,

to not hold too tight

it’s hard to process

In circle, we roam around,

Love and I,

I am counting moments of its return

My eyes are hooked on the path outside

And it’s starving and growling inside

We are stuck somewhere in a survival plain

When love comes on its own terms

There’s a price to pay

Patience and prayer

When it leaves on its term

There’s a gift to reap

Poetry and collective share

-Rupika Moitra

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