It’s a fact…


It’s a fact..

There is some place
Inside where you still
When love’s
tremulous tendrils
had first brushed
against a gawky heart
which had shyly folded back into
itself out of uncustomary fright.
I know you too had felt
same as you’d given
ample proof of that
even when you were
insensate as your young life
Had untimely, ebbed out
Aborted love
is one love that
never dies
It stays perennially
pregnant with “what if”
First love
Continues throbbing
As long as bereft’s heart, beats…


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