Calling all poets. Submissins are open for Wingword Poetry Competition!

is it?‬

Ankita Singhania

To love or not to love

‪is up to you - they say.

‪I wonder;

is it?

‪Do I have the

might and main

‪when my nerves and sinew

‪have been dipped;


into the ocean of

wishful desire?


His eyes the only thing

I see, before

his fanciful arms

engulf me in a

trance of rhythmic siesta.

His name, but form 

my evening prayer;

a Buddhist chant;

it’s vibrations

reaching my chakras

and I am filled with

His. Him. He.


His words find their way

through me

like a channel,

its valve broken

like our worlds have.

As I pen my feelings;

the ink forms my hands

and bloat on the paper;

paper as pale brown as

the color of his skin.


How do I stop 

his mellow voice from 

humming hypnotic lullabies

to my lovelorn soul,

putting me to peace, only

to be awaken by

the searing pain

of wanting him?

And they say -

to stay or to walk away 

is up to you,

is it?

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