Photo by Nadine Shaabana on Unsplash
My hands are bound,
How do I touch him now?
His pure, gentle skin,
That oh so innocent face…
To me, at least.
His eyes gleam like stars,
Lips of which I could kiss,
My heart beats to his name
Without him, I am ash…
Divided we are,
By extreme thoughts of our own,
By the worlds we live in,
For it is not real,
For we are not real,
But the love we share is…
I desire to feel his fingers,
There is a need to hold his hand,
For if him I can’t sense,
What use is this life then?
About the Creator
Manisha Dhalani
Content writer and marketer helping solopreneurs achieve organic growth. Loves reading, eating cake, and having insightful conversations.
Keep reading
More stories from Manisha Dhalani and writers in Poets and other communities.
Comments (2)
Romantic mood successfully and with the pen!
Oooo, I loved the last 2 lines so much! Amazing poem!