When Love in Exile
My words have been looted
as I put my heart upon the desert
Vibrating in it's sudden new position
cold and penetrable.
Outside of it's bone prison
which gave airs of security, expectations.
What a mistake, that was
The daggers thrust between
proving the real points of the love to be real and not phantoms.
After a long walk
we both decided it would
be settled on the altar.
It seems my argument
made sense
since the starting my heart agreed
wholly and without reservation.
In the night we have long
conversations my heart and I
calling to me from it's new
residence
asking when it can come home again
weary of the cold
and trembling when a stranger
walks too closely by
I reassure - even when they peer
closely at the jumble around you
you remain invisible
my voodoo is that strong
It agrees with a wet, thumping sigh
wistful and nostalgic
for the incessant whispering
of your heart.
It wonders what treasures
the gurgling idiot stomach
is dissolving today without judgment
I understand
these are the musings of an organ
misplaced
who misses home and forgets
the pain which drove it away.
If only my brain would forget
that old library
huge and dusty as a gravestone
never throws anything out
just shelves it and adds it's placement
in the card catalogue.
However, the librarian holds all grudges
when the heart has been
played with too roughly
and keeps the pain files on her desk
constantly rifled through and
shuffled, reshuffled, shuffled again
One day I'll have enough to write a book "When Love in Exile".
You mumble over the complaints
of my heart as it bleats and moans
about it's new home
You dont hear it - it's too far away
from the Central Nervous System
for the message to be transmitted
in the proper form.
When you remember
that librarian of my brain
where the heart has gone
You stop to listen
and in anger over it's pathetic pleas
You cry
"We have not learned
So you cannot left or return".
If I did as you request
We would take back up the quest
And we all know the deepness, the reality of love
"When Love in Exile"
You break down in literary sobs
reminding the heart of the nature of it's exile
and why it's truly for the best.
Yes we both of us know and experienced the lonliness, the pathetic , the hurt-full moment, the careless, the happiless life, the feelingless thoughts, the contactless touches, the kissless lips, the warmless hugs, the unmelodize voice, the unromantic mind, the angriness manners, the eyeless looking, the senseless life, the debate less talks, the sorrow less life, the affectionless and attraction less life
All realized and understood after rupture or we may call it exile of love.
ক । দ ।