Love Bites

It would be easy

Berry picking like,

I know you think.

To own me,

With your flair,

The same effortlessness

With which you once

Disowned me.

For all such times

When I sizzled in your arms

Red chilli on hot mustard oil,

I gave you flavour,

Burning myself down.

You separated the torment,

Knowing its destiny,

Down in the bin.

But here it rises,

Fiery, flaming,

In words,

Bleeding words.

Does that hurt you?

The burning red wound?

Not yet?

Good.

It decided to let you go,

No, not because it cannot,

I cannot.

But I know,

It's not worth.

Your pain.

You are a destitute,

A lonely tree,

In your palatial backyard.

You could not house

My blooming births.

And on an other day,

When you are disowning

Someone else,

I wish her the strength

Of dried chillies,

And buried flowers,

To burn you down.

In love,

And its beautiful

Helplessness.

In hate,

And its terrible

Helplessness.