WORDS WRITTEN IN SILENCE

I have traveled far and wide. Yet, your curves are my most favourite destination. Your hands are still the home I want to come back to and your eyes are the only city where I want to be lost.

Navin E.

Men and sex go hand in hand. Or at least, what everyone thinks. Sometimes it is true and we often do think about sex and deal in flesh.

We haven’t met yet and it isn’t just sex on my mind. So, if you will take the time, I shall tell you of a handful of things I think about when I think of us. I say handful because I haven’t been able to write down all the things to have crossed my mind.

So here goes………………

I think about the moment you and I meet. Perhaps it will be at the airport or when you open the door, following three knocks from me.

We speak of cooking and I would be lying if I hadn’t thought of having my way with you in the kitchen, but a smile overtakes my lips as I think of cooking for you and allowing you taste the food from my fingers.

Time on the couch doesn’t have to lead to sex. I often think about us lying together, allowing our hands to just run through each other’s hair and nothing more.

When I think of us sleeping together it doesn’t always lead to sex. Often my mind wanders to you falling asleep with your head on my chest and I just listen to you breathe. I can only imagine it to be peaceful, before I too succumb to sleep.

Dancing, oh yes, dancing, doesn’t have to be slow grinding. Yes, I have thought about that as well, but it’s the waltz I am interested in; holding you as we move, with our eyes upon one another and not another soul.

As for the sex. Yes, that has crossed my mind, but that is for another day.

Navin E. (on things I think of doing with you, apart from sex)

Day 17 of spring

Butterflies tease the air
Tales from the sap of the elm trees
Shared in tongues we do not comprehend

Our voices coarse
Lost in a world we inhabit
Failing to coexist and looking to command

The butterflies shall fly away soon
The bare elms shall rest till their return
As we continue unaware

Rest my love

Rest my love
Peace is finally upon your doorstep

I cannot leave
No, not just yet

I must stay
And guard over our little girl

As she speaks her first word
Or when she takes her first step

I must watch
As her curls grow softer with time

She will hear stories
Of how much love you would have given her

But I promise
I shall hold her close every night

She will be a good woman
Your reflection is within her

She will know love, my dear
And a friend, I shall be

Rest my love
Peace is finally upon your doorstep

I shall be alright
And remain a pillar of strength for her

I cannot leave
No, not just yet

I must stay
And guard over our little girl

Grant me life

Bright lights
Conceal the lifelessness
Saving those who can
And holding on to those until the breaths cease

Between the beeping tones of the machines whose names I do not know
Prayers can be heard

Hindus, Muslims and Catholics are all the same here
No territorial conflicts and political agendas here

A man dressed in black reads

O most merciful Lord Jesus, by Thine agony and sweat of Blood, by Thy precious death, deliver us, we beseech Thee, from a sudden and unprovided death

Room 105 a priest in saffron begins to speak words from the Rig Vedas

Where eternal luster glows, the realm in which the light divine is set, place me, Purifier, in that deathless, imperishable world.

Make me immortal in that realm where movement is accordant to wish, in the third region, the third heaven of heavens, where the worlds are resplendent

Right next door in Room 107 an Imam can be heard softly

Allahuma rabbi-nas adhhabal ba’sa, ashfi wa entashafi, la shifa’ illa shifa’uka shifa’ la yughadiru saqama.

Oh Allah! The Sustainer of Mankind! Remove the illness, cure the disease. You are the One Who cures. There is no cure except Your cure. Grant us a cure that leaves no illness.

Where these words stem from do not matter
Neither the colour of those who speak them
The God they bow to is not a barrier. Today is no different

Emptiness in the room I enter
Coldness, I have grown accustomed to but not these artificial lights
No voices here; instructions to disrobe and lie on the pressed bed

They do not speak ill here
Coldness in the words of warmth is more frightening
Reminders of loneliness here; accidentally callous
Sympathy does not reside here


The prayers I have learnt echo in my mind
Waiting to fall upon my lips and to be heard beyond these walls

And those who taught them to me; nowhere to be found


There is no silence here
The absence of voices, louder than spoken words

This mind isn’t blank
Offer me your prayers. Grant me life.

Just once more

midnightvalkyrie:

With warmer winds
glides in spring time
and spring cleaning:

sweeping out the cold
with the collected dust
and tendrils shrunk back
in darkened corners.

throwing back heavy
curtains, yawning from
hibernation, allowing
sunlight to stream in.

sorting through clothes
bringing back forward
dresses, with flowers
curling in at the hem.

tucking away secrets
with winter bed sheets
and pushing sleep
deeper into the night.

There are many things I love about you and things I would like to share with you.

And no surprises, I have never had the courage to say these things, so I must pen them down and hope this reaches those cobalt eyes I cannot stop myself staring into.

i) Your laughter is infectious.
ii) You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes upon. I cannot get myself to say this at the fear of turning you away. So, in silence I look at you when you sleep.
iii) Your independence is something I respect and I want to only be a part of your life; not the sole recipient of your time.
iv) There are times when it appears as if I am not listening. I continue to stare at your lips and want to kiss them at every opportunity.
v) Your words are captivating. I only wish you wrote more. If not in your eyes, I want to be lost in your words.
vi) I will go back to your eyes. I want my eyes to never leave yours when we make love.
vii) Every shade of blue pales in comparison to your eyes, but it is black I love most on you.
viii) I want to pray with you. I never want to know what you pray for, but I want to be by your side.
ix) I want to travel the world with you; holding your hand as we walk the streets of unknown lands.
x) I am yours. Only yours.

I don’t tell you this because I’m scared you will run away.

Navin E. (ten things I cannot tell you)