Warmth

 Something warm to hold onto

When it’s spring yet feels like 32

I wish right now, your warm hands were glued to mine 

Unfortunately, for now, it’s the P.O.D cappuccino that has to do. 

The bright and blaring sun is a sham,

My lips, nose tip, and fingers are numb,

The chill is making me feel smaller than I am,

Well, in reality, thinking I am something without you is dumb.

--

I envy the air that's kissing your breath

and brushing your skin, this very moment

Probably giving you a tickle as you go about your day,

I resent the puddle being splashed by your boots,

What good did it do be much near you,

to come about your way?

 It had to be me instead. 

Deep, under the layers, where my heart lies,

Every time it misses your warm touch, it dies,

I loath how emptiness fills me with life,

And, Yes I am guilty if 

Missing you is a crime.

I doubt that I shall feel hot this summer,

The sun's spitting heat is incapable of thawing 

My freezing soul.

It would melt into a vast ocean instantly,

If only the sun were to be you.

--

Someone warm to hold onto 

When it’s spring yet feels like 34

I'm pushing the sidewalk behind me with every step,

I don't want to do it on my own anymore.

Yet as I drift

I wonder if they notice the spark in my eyes,

When my mind is flooding with the thought of your smile,

And your gentle loving words that made me feel warm

For the first time

And I wonder if you can hear me 

Whisper, " I love you,"

All the way, across hundreds of miles. 

~ Kripa Sarkar