LIKE LOVE

Do you ever realise who loves whom more?

Me or you?

Can you think of measuring it?

Our love?

I cannot, because that would mean comparing it with a standard.

And love with a standard is not love.

It’s like love.

I wonder why is it so,

that you seem to be mine.

Though I know,

you are not my fidelity.

You never were.

You never would be.

Still I wait for that day to come,

which is a definition of never.

If I’m the wanderer then you’re the mirage.

The hope of drinking you in keeps me alive..

In this dessert, of the fake.

And you’re a fake truth of it.

You ask me to integrate you,

Complete you.

Oh yes I would, why would I not?

And then you ask me not to leave.

I answer in a yes.

My heart feels warmer,

bleeding.

I cannot leave you.

I don’t want to.

But oh yes,

how can I see someone else possessing the mirage,

which I longed for my entire journey?

I would die of thirst.

Would that be fair?

How would you do justice to me then?

Would you, in the first place?

You would not quench my thirst,

neither you would realise,

that why didn’t I let my thirst make me scream your name out loud in the dessert,

for making you appear,

though as a mirage.

But hey, mirage,

do not appear at the same place again,

where the sand would be soaked with my blood.

Because then that would be a standard.

Which would not be love.

It would be like love.