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Yes, you hurt me; where it hurts the most.
You saw my sandals at a widow's door
you saw the house was locked from out
from your friend's house
in building opposite at first floor.
You did listen our roaring laugh, as if
steam came out streaming out
like our child
from his KG class, at two past half.
As if the waves pounded repeatedly
on a lonesome ocean shore.
Yes you did see more.
Yes you did listen more.
Wife:
Yes, you did tear my heart
Yes you tore its each chamber, its each part.
Yes you hurt me where it hurts most.
Yes, I wept like a charred toast.
Yes I felt like still pulsating heart of a calf
extracted alive with butcher's knife
and tossed to the grate of barbecue
oven to roast.
Yes, you hurt me where it hurts most.
But you are my king, me thy crown
to be written always in bold caps,
you are my proper noun.
How could I shout and create a scene
though I saw you with her, I deleted the picture
from the hardware of computer
I blew into shreds my register
which recorded whatever unpleasant I had seen.
How could I use the very lips and the very tongue
to trick, abuse and kick.
Which I used once to kiss you and lick.
How could I pick the thorns from the
bouquets of blood-red roses you gifted me
on special days over the years
and I hugged them and moistened them
with my cascading pleasant tears
and use them mercilessly as wounding spears.
The arms which I used to embrace
how could I used them for your insult or disgrace
to strangulate you like a python ?
How could I make you an item of rebuke
how can I make you the maiden subject of contest at AP
hosted by poetess Mala, brilliant and astute.
Or a protagonist for a Somerset Maugham like novel
at Amazon in a sad tale of adultery crude.
In case I have lost the zing
follow the law of the land kindly minus a blink
send me a notice of divorce, with may be a black rose.
Since I relished your goodwill messages umpteen times
I shall not break tradition, hold the rose close to my nose
punish myself, pay all fines.
I shall kiss your notice of divorce
my dearest husband, many many times.
#TheUnrequitedLove
© Aarchi Advani Saini.!
you saw the house was locked from out
from your friend's house
in building opposite at first floor.
You did listen our roaring laugh, as if
steam came out streaming out
like our child
from his KG class, at two past half.
As if the waves pounded repeatedly
on a lonesome ocean shore.
Yes you did see more.
Yes you did listen more.
Wife:
Yes, you did tear my heart
Yes you tore its each chamber, its each part.
Yes you hurt me where it hurts most.
Yes, I wept like a charred toast.
Yes I felt like still pulsating heart of a calf
extracted alive with butcher's knife
and tossed to the grate of barbecue
oven to roast.
Yes, you hurt me where it hurts most.
But you are my king, me thy crown
to be written always in bold caps,
you are my proper noun.
How could I shout and create a scene
though I saw you with her, I deleted the picture
from the hardware of computer
I blew into shreds my register
which recorded whatever unpleasant I had seen.
How could I use the very lips and the very tongue
to trick, abuse and kick.
Which I used once to kiss you and lick.
How could I pick the thorns from the
bouquets of blood-red roses you gifted me
on special days over the years
and I hugged them and moistened them
with my cascading pleasant tears
and use them mercilessly as wounding spears.
The arms which I used to embrace
how could I used them for your insult or disgrace
to strangulate you like a python ?
How could I make you an item of rebuke
how can I make you the maiden subject of contest at AP
hosted by poetess Mala, brilliant and astute.
Or a protagonist for a Somerset Maugham like novel
at Amazon in a sad tale of adultery crude.
In case I have lost the zing
follow the law of the land kindly minus a blink
send me a notice of divorce, with may be a black rose.
Since I relished your goodwill messages umpteen times
I shall not break tradition, hold the rose close to my nose
punish myself, pay all fines.
I shall kiss your notice of divorce
my dearest husband, many many times.
#TheUnrequitedLove
© Aarchi Advani Saini.!
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