Looking back on today,
any of the days these days,
five, fifteen or fifty years on...
The hesitation, the newness
the yearning, the rawness
The endless nights spent unslept,
the countless days lost staring,
waiting for the phone's blip
A message from you,
may be a poem
or just a line scribbled in haste,
even the emoticons appearing
sincere for a change
As within me I feel
a tumult rising,
trying in vain,
again and again,
to tame my sanity,
to keep me huddled
under some wave of uncertainty.
And I wonder why I break
into a smile earnest,
a blush misplaced,
when on a train,
with a patient,
when stuck in a traffic,
when hearing the rain
dance on the window pane
Unbeknownst to me...
exactly the way
I'd have wanted it to be
Five, fifteen or fifty years on
I want you to be there
to share with me
these little wonders
of being in love...
for the first time...
again and again.
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