A Planet and a comet

You - were a planet to me
Breaking my speed, my gait, my trail,
Involuntarily you drew me in
I burned on shivering nights and foggy mornings
So different are we
Two strangers
We don't know the other
And yet the intimacy of what you do to me
Pulling me in
I circle around
Doomed to collapse eventually
Your mild touch and a look
Your carefree attention
You turn my attention like
sunflowers slowly turning to face the sun
You turn me in..to you
A shared laugh
My tension with your proximity
This may be a dream
And I will wake up
And continue to be the comet that I am
And you will remain the planet that I passed by
Unwatched by the world
But you will know & So will I
That I passed you by
And burned you too in my wake

Your intimate body

There are so many things that occupy us... and by occupy, I mean live inside us. They travel in our minds and explore our senses. A book for one is one such thing. It sleeps close to your hand and watches you intently when you sigh while reading it. A thought that stays in your mind and traverses the nooks and corners that it lights up ... or darkens. A feeling that enters you from your ears or your eyes or your luscious mouth and decides it wants to stay a while and know you better. A sorrow that enters your bones and weakens them. So intimate is our life with things such as these. Guests that stay whether you like it or not. A silence that whispers in your ears all day while you continue dealing with the mundane ordinary things - the driving to work, buying groceries. You continue to watch your self - a host to many things. And this goes on... for a long time. And then one day it is time for you to leave and these guests that stayed a little and made room for other new things to enter you would leave in a rush... the last departing guests will leave you with your breath and a sigh. And just like that you will be gone and the hotel that your body was will be empty.