I see him and his ruffled hair, his shirt is unbuttoned, I look at him salaciously right from his melancholic eyes, to his lips and down to his neck around his collar, unbuttoned shirt, and right down the third button where I can’t see any skin. He is immersed in the taste of my wine looking at the picture hung on the wall.
YES! This was my First time, I was really very nervous, I turned almost red when I saw him and we began our conversation, He was all Clean, Polite, Genuine and good smelling.
मैं तुम्हें तुम्हारे सच से मिलाने नहीं आई थी।मैं आई थी तुमसे मिलने, तुम्हें जानने, तुम्हें पहचानने… कि तुम कौन हो, क्या हो, और किस नज़रिए से ज़िंदगी को देखते हो। तुम्हारे दिल में क्या है? इतना हसीन चेहरा, भले कितना भी खूबसूरत क्यों न हो, होता तो इंसान ही है।और इंसान क्या है? दिल…
You, I removed you because I needed silence. Not from you — from myself. From the version of me that kept waiting for your name to appear on my phone like it could steady the entire chaos inside my chest. I thought distance would make things clearer. Instead, it made everything louder. Now I see…
If you ever came back—not with your late-night half-words or your convenient silences—but with a real question,Why did you cut me off? Why did you block me? I’ve wondered what I’d say. Because the truth isn’t loud.It doesn’t scream or accuse.It sits quietly in the spaces you left behind. I would say—I didn’t leave because…
I miss you. There. I said it.It’s been days since I blocked you, and this is the first time I’ve let myself admit it without immediately trying to bury it under anger or logic or distraction. I’ve mostly been running from you, from what happened, from how much I let myself feel. Because I was…
There has never been a hug like that.A complete hug it was. From the tip of our toesto our shoulders,Every inch of him washugging every inch of me. He was pressed against me wholly,In fact, being tall was dropping him on me a little.I was pressed against him wholly.And I was dropping myself on him…
So much has happened that I can’t quite trace where it began—how an ordinary day, one where I simply looked up from my laptop to steal a glance at you, became something that now lingers in every quiet moment of my life. At first, it was harmless. Just glances. You, across the room, unaware—or maybe…
It started quietly. Almost too quietly for something that would go on to rearrange so much inside me. You had messaged me about something ordinary work, I think. And yet, I remember the way it felt. Four years of working from home had thinned out my world in ways I hadn’t fully acknowledged. Conversations had…
Can we fall in love again, I think about last night when I moved my hand over my lips, imagining being kissed by you. My fingers glide down my neck, over my collarbones, and to my breasts. I wonder how it would feel to have your hands hold me, to feel your lips on mine, on my ears, neck, and breasts, to have you breathing on me, kissing me, and pull me closer.