Sunday, February 5, 2012

what love can’t cure

nights in crumpled sheets
she lie staring upon a screen
scattered with hushed glances
and thought out schemes


a song starts to spill the background
flocked with ringing keys
piano notes starts to linger
as she tries not to be teased


conversations now recurs
and his voice begins to play
of words said and meant
sprawled out on one fateful day


she remembers the blatant gaze
where his eyes never turned away
at chance he held her hands in his
and a distinct beat chose to stray


while she watched the screen evolve
lying once again in crumpled sheets
a trace of a familiar grin
starts to line across her cheeks


--majest, Feb5,2012 11:38PM

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