This time I didn't cry.
But next time around, I'll be ruthless.
I'll judge you for your queer smile.
I'll mock your accent and stare at your scars
I'll stop to breathe before I let your scent into my lungs
This time I'll not make you my comfort.
I won't let you become the essence of my being
I won't let you touch my soul
No, not this time
Because this time I won't love you.
As is amply clear, I'm trying to write more and more poetry. I have been a regular at The Poetry Club, Mumbai for the past year and its unbelievable. So if you are in Mumbai and would like to read out your poems in the midst of fellow poets write to them at firstname.lastname@example.org