Treasure Island

Hardik Vaidya

(26 Dec 1969, yet to kick the bucket. / Mahuva, Gujarat, India.)

To hell with HIM, to be with you.

One drink is all I need,
I want to drink you in solitude.
Provided you in your volition want to fill my glass of empty love.
It is not empty, it is full.
It needs your being to dissolve in its whole.
I know you are there,
But you are yet to explicitly accommodate.
The law of contracts is quite clear,
An offer is a mere offer,
Without acceptance explicit,
It's like a wish a feather floating in ether,
Neither you nor I are born to be bound to tethers,
But I am a slave to your eternal leaking yes,
The yes from your mothers, and her mothers lips of eternal,
Allow me the drink of yours,
Tell me come,
And if I don't sip you,
Slow, soft, eternally like a wine undated,
Banish me then,
Because without this test,
Your logic is bereft,
Of the trust god placed,
In his drunken lust,
In me and you,
He was drunk,
We were new,
As leaves on a plant,
Kissing sun rays and morning dew.

Submitted: Sunday, February 24, 2013
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