LOVE Poem: The Rind of Love, by Rida Akhtar Ghumman

There is an outer layer of this feeling:
some fragments of infinity that gathered around and framed you in my heart,
there is mystery to this all but
this layer doesn’t peel off,
I wonder if painting your portraits and watching them burn would do the trick,
but it shatters my already hurt heart
to think of burning your beautiful face painted in dexterity,
I guess the poets, and all were right:
love doesn’t go away
it stays smouldering and sinking within.
I guess the movies were not playing us either
there is no way around pain but of embracing it
when all I yearned for was your long arms holding mine
nothing the universe and her magnanimity couldn’t spare.
My ilk, the bad writers and lovers, only get scraps for the memory
the rind of our affinities stays affected and eternal.

Author: poetryfest

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