This is not love. Can't be so even if the world were to end tomorrow. Or in forever. Because love must be something more definitive. With borderlines sketched by Aphrodite. What lay inside is love, what doesn't, doesn't. Like black vis-a-vis white. As in, if black were love, white couldn't ever be. Or vice versa. Whichever way you choose.

Love isn't comme ci, comme ca. It's got to be perfect.

But somehow, I find certain nuances ungetoverable. Certain random ones, other than the obvious. Like the twitches of the muscles on your face. The ones even you wouldn't know of. Secret smells caged under your neck. The huskiness in your voice. Also sometimes that alarming sharpness. And of course your chin. The texture of touch. The neat nails. Veins under thin skin. Greenish blue, bluish green. 

Those apparently insignificant behavioral penchants of yours, are perfect thieves of my sleep tonite.

But the world isn't ending tomorrow, anyway. And this cannot be love, comewhatmay. 


--x--

7 comments:

Winter Song said...

"Those apparently insignificant behavioral penchants of yours, are perfect thieves of my sleep tonite."
Perfect.

Anonymous said...

this is love my girl..believe it or not.. Love is all about those beautiful imperfections

Ritika Gupta said...

love can never be black or white.. it just cant b defined.. it has to b imperfect.. it just has to be.. its beauty lies in imperfection.. n so i support Tan :D

Tan said...

ritikaaaaaaaaaaaaaa .. i hate you.. still i love u :) :)
n duggu dont cry.. i love u too :P

Anonymous said...

Tanvi being Anonymous now, Ritz gets to know everytime :P

wildflower said...

Oh that was me btw

tan said...

we get it!!