By Harleen Kaur
The day I first saw you, you were crying.
Fat tears cascading over your cheeks.
Broken pieces bleeding in sorrow’s streaks.
Your grief seemed to overpower all else.
The unnatural depth of your feels,
I was amazed, honored to see.
I asked around, pointing towards you
A lovely girl, named Mira, they say
I could see the ocean in your eye's gray.
A treasured wealth of emotions swirling there.
Wreaths of daisies and lavender whispering glee.
Wilted pools of hellebores weeping in agony.
I longed to speak with you.
To ask the cause of such misery
To sit and hold your hand, comforting gently.
Somehow, I steeled myself and approached you.
But you were no longer drowning, Mira.
You were lost in the dance of euphoria.
I was stunned, marveling at your pure ecstasy.
Who helped you climb up, dear?
What's the cause of such radiant cheer?
I stepped back, uncertain and afraid.
Someone came and kissed your forehead.
I watched you glow like water at sunset.
I withdrew, my heart slowing to a crawl.
I couldn't hold you through the night anymore.
Couldn't wipe your tears of bliss and woe.
Never knew if I could make you feel loved.
I’ll never know the cause of your grief.
What makes your heart warm with relief.
But then I smile, laughing softly.
How could I think someone like me,
Could ever feel such passionate intensity?
These crimson cascades are expensive.
I don't even know their currency, dear.
How could I ever claim you Mira?
Foolish, I am such a silly dreamer.
Already making castles of tender hope, a future 'we'
I watch them sweep away in waves of your blue sea.
I sit back, close my eyes and dream.
Pink mornings in fairytale glitter
A hug from behind, a faint tremor.
They will help me live, while I wait.
That's the duty of dreamers like me
Creating utopian words of infinite beauty.
I chuckle to myself, then breakdown in sobs.
The hope of scarlet symphonies
Crumbling down to somber silences.
Heavens play the celestial waltz.
The sea could never meet the sky
A broken star is cursed to eventually die.
Cities crumble to rubble.
Clouds rain storms and thunders.
The only saving grace
Is in the pleasure
Of watching love, play.
So, I raise my eyes to you Mira.
You look like a goddess sitting above.
Ah! The ephemeral beauty of one-sided love.
By Harleen Kaur
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