When He Fries My Heart

On a queue, I wonder if else drum the circulation

I could still love his prickling beard

Now the lane connects closer to the flames

Hence, the peak of my feet nail trips on him

He is on the pools of snow, while I shall bribe the sun

His smile butter me up on an oil

It taste numb yet too complete

It’s his hand stirring the selfless drools

I thought I’m breathing in soils of his arms

How does that ruins of skeleton trap carelessness?

I wished If I had disowned frying pan, oil and that flame.

©aleashaa2018

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If I Smile Like An Idiot…. Will You Know It?

On the boxes of solemn lyrics

I need to halt that beating set

what if he hums my old la la la

and my beat slips out of the rhythm?

Next morning, I could pretend 

doze off silently on his arm pillow

clutch the freaking heart with the palm

and bribe it for the smile that I saved the last night

 

Once, they accused me of the tragic ending

whether I have been through

But, Trust me, I am twist-teller

I can thrive your lies and retell on your best

Now, he knows of the metaphor 

I have pickpocketed from his zipped drums

Oh! I must have been cautious

all those years where I dug and eclipsed it

 

Thus, he brags on my chin, lifting it

I can sniff on the breakfast that he just devoured

and I skipped for the saturated thumps I had

A while, on the crossed breath

I blame it on the air we exchanged

He chuckles on the reason I poured out,

then says,

If I Smile Like An Idiot, Will You Know It?

From The Whisper Of Street

Yesterday we were diving in liquor.. humming ‘drunk in love’
You drew white circle and named it moon for me
When u sipped your last drop..I fell for your Adam’s Apple

The glasses we used to drank is broken
I glued it, taped it..still scars there’s been

You got the new glasses from market
I heard from the whisper of the street
As I wait with my high heels on
She snaps a peck on yours of tons
As I heard from whisper of street

©aleashaa2014

When he hates poetry

He laments disguised words in a morning newspaper. So, he often rolls them up and bounces into grounded basket. And I had made my mind to paste my piece of paper underneath bed sheets or kitchen tunnel, he would never turned in for. I guess, my pen can live without ink.

When he is into uncomplicated news stories, I must find shovel and draw a hollow near his home. I know, he is slow, even with simple stories. Sigh! I can take my things slow too. Poor at drawing- I think I won’t match an exact circular hollow, an ink is thinking off it. However, it must rest in there, warming up with heaps of mud, shovel scattered.

He is calling me. Perhaps, he is finished with morning read.

“where were you?” he sniffs around and leans closer to me “you smell like an ink. I had never thought if anyone could  leave impression of ink and you do.”

“I was preparing tea, but I could not figure out where the packet of sugar was. I ended up checking it store room.  You know what that room smells like?” Is that a best lie I could come with?

“I know” he grins and kisses my forehead. ” You might have encountered a bottle of ink in one of your drawer”

“How.. do you? know?” I stammer on his truth

“Cause, you always smell like this” he cuffs his arms behind my back and sniffs closely on my neck.”I am hooked to it” he inhales again.

“I thought you hate it” he is way too warm there.

“I do” I can feel his lips protruding on my shoulder.

 

 

 

 

 

 I nodded within his warmth

I walk fast” He stroked and striped his long legs on each small partition of pavement. “so, walk with me” he gazed at me. oh! I must run like National athlete. I ran with him. I must have lost our keys while hopping along him. our house were against us. We slept at the basement that night.

I can’t sleep“He flipped the pages of walls again and again. So, we stalked the cockroaches that night. “I tried licensing for the cannon to shoot out their dynasty” I sniped at his back. His chuckling vibrated in the spine. I wish I could see his face. I am used to his cold beard.

Finally,  I saw his beard hung down and his lips divorced within the vacant hallow. He hid me in his sweaty chest and bated;

I’ll earn a ton and gift you a cannon. Kill all those cockroaches for me

 I nodded within his warmth.