By Panya
i first met you,
when my grandfather’s lifeless body
lay before me,
and my young mind
was filled with nothing but fear,
fear of the unknown.
but ten years later
it is nothing but ardour
with which I will greet you
when you are on my doorstep.
perhaps, you understood this
the first time we stole a kiss
when I lit a cigarette
and every breath i took
was a way to get closer
to you.
We’ve had the finest red wine,
sitting on my bathroom floor
at 4 in the morning;
with nothing but silver blades.
your fingers have wrapped firmly around mine
every time i have offered myself to you,
But it’s almost as if
you are telling me,
“stay.
we will meet sometime again.”
Beautiful comparison between death and lover.
Even death’s dark angel has a certain charm over their courier. It’s a package to wait a lifetime.