Love Story
Make no mistake, little one, this is love.
When it rains, you wish you were back on that highway, sitting on a bike, the wind in your hair, the droplets in your eyes. Just so you can sit in a watchman’s cabin again. And shiver, but not just because you’re cold.
When the sun is about to set, I wonder if you catch the glint in my eye, and know what I’m thinking.
When you hear that song, you look around for me with a wild desperation, like an addict who hasn’t had a fix in days.
When I take a picture, I wonder if I’m doing it right and if I make you proud.
When you’re bending over all that paper, you stop suddenly, smile, and sit straight.
When I pass from in front of a reflective surface, I stop and preen, and pray that I look good enough to stand next to you.
Make no mistake, babe, it will not be easy.
There will be fights. Many of them.
There will be times when you wonder if I am being unfaithful, and I will wonder why I can’t make you laugh like you used to anymore.
There will be times when you wonder if it’s still worth it, and I will wonder if you are being unfaithful.
There will be long silences, maybe even absences, and we won’t know which one of them brought the other on.
There will be lots of bad luck, and time, circumstances and the universe will work against us on a regular basis.
I will die first.
Make no mistake, darling, this is beyond mortality.
Every sunrise will, must, find you in my arms.
Every moonlit night must see your tiny hands in mine.
Every Sunday will see you walking around the house in one of my old shirts.
Every candle flame will remind me of the glow on your face, of the first time.
Every time you look at the kids’ hair you will ask why they couldn’t have inherited that bit from you. I will ask a similar question when I look at their feet.
Every New Year’s Eve will remind you of just one thing. Or maybe two.
Every so often, I will pack the kids off somewhere – grandparents, summer camp, boarding school, army duty, I don’t care – and I will rediscover you in every way I can think of.
Make no mistake, my love, this is for the rest of our days.
^
When it rains, you wish you were back on that highway, sitting on a bike, the wind in your hair, the droplets in your eyes. Just so you can sit in a watchman’s cabin again. And shiver, but not just because you’re cold.
When the sun is about to set, I wonder if you catch the glint in my eye, and know what I’m thinking.
When you hear that song, you look around for me with a wild desperation, like an addict who hasn’t had a fix in days.
When I take a picture, I wonder if I’m doing it right and if I make you proud.
When you’re bending over all that paper, you stop suddenly, smile, and sit straight.
When I pass from in front of a reflective surface, I stop and preen, and pray that I look good enough to stand next to you.
Make no mistake, babe, it will not be easy.
There will be fights. Many of them.
There will be times when you wonder if I am being unfaithful, and I will wonder why I can’t make you laugh like you used to anymore.
There will be times when you wonder if it’s still worth it, and I will wonder if you are being unfaithful.
There will be long silences, maybe even absences, and we won’t know which one of them brought the other on.
There will be lots of bad luck, and time, circumstances and the universe will work against us on a regular basis.
I will die first.
Make no mistake, darling, this is beyond mortality.
Every sunrise will, must, find you in my arms.
Every moonlit night must see your tiny hands in mine.
Every Sunday will see you walking around the house in one of my old shirts.
Every candle flame will remind me of the glow on your face, of the first time.
Every time you look at the kids’ hair you will ask why they couldn’t have inherited that bit from you. I will ask a similar question when I look at their feet.
Every New Year’s Eve will remind you of just one thing. Or maybe two.
Every so often, I will pack the kids off somewhere – grandparents, summer camp, boarding school, army duty, I don’t care – and I will rediscover you in every way I can think of.
Make no mistake, my love, this is for the rest of our days.
^
spouted by Non-Sensei at 11/06/2007 01:55:00 PM
14 Comments:
whazzzzzzzzza dude
full romance pouring
main daaru leke aaon kya?
thank you.
and welcome back.
@Adi : LOL. too much ho gaya kya? but daaru leke aaja anyway.
@T : why for, the thanks?
Awww. Nonsense Bwoy, she is a lucky girl.
Such eloquence.
Anybody'd fall over and over again for words so well strung, like these.
too much nahi re, four much-ich ho gaya
mein jake aatoon Naeem bhai ke pass ... daaru se kaam nahin hoga ... need stronger stuff ;-)
@H : aww shucks. :)
@Adi : ab no more naeem bhai, remember? usko yeh ich 'stronger stuff' four much ho gaya. ab clock tower ich jaana padta.
aaah, mai to bhool-ich gaya (withdrawal symptoms?)
:)
awwww :)
make no mistake,....I loved it...
*bawl*
they don't make men like that anymore!
bastards!
you just broke my heart. beech.
@AC: yeah, :-)
@Enigma : :-)
@ah-men : ah, thank you.
@TDT : heh heh. language, language.
Wow! The mark of a good poem is when the reader stops to read and.... sort of swims in the sea, and with each para goes to the next high wave, an escalated feeling created by the language and emotive content.. Great stuff !
@Anon : thank you. :)
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