Your tear writes
a poem on its own.
Long shackled
to those longing eyes
it breaks out at last.
Rolling down tonight
it moists those dry lips
that have long forgotten
the taste of my name.
And it kisses down
that little lump
on your throat that
have long locked up
a story of pain.
Before it goes down
your veiled bosoms
making untamed love
to the storms that have
long hidden inside
my tender home.
Have I ever told you
How beautiful you are?
© Arindam Dey
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