Calculations

Is this the best time for love?

So many options

Matrimonial sites and dating apps

Found in shared taste in pottery class

In shared pain at work

And society reluctantly giving up norms

Resigned towards the inevitable

Is this the worst time for love?

So many options

Easy validation sliding into DMs

Lovers on rent

For a night, for a week

Fill the hole in your heart

One face, one tequila shot at a time

Terrifying, isn't it?

There's no time for love

Exhilarating, now

It's the only time for love

For me, it's you

The perfect time for love

Now is all I have

You are all I have

For now

For now

When I'm not writing poetry

Or hyperventilating over Murphy's law

I'm making calculations on a little notepad

A complex quadratic equation

Manipulating x's and the y's

To turn now into forever

The perfect end to love

Isn't a whole number

It's a binomial function,

An eternal curve

You see,

The perfect end to love

Is no end at all

Happiness

Someone tells me what you seek is seeking you.

And I think of happiness, a silvery blue ribbon of wind, trilling inexorably towards me. Writhing against brown conifers and taking detours around lakes. Because that is her way, unpredictable, aimless, distracted, inseparable from the joy of the moment.

She’s taking the long way here, a convoluted path. Soaring with eagles and playing with little boys chasing each other. Pausing to look into a cafe as someone falls in love at first sight. Dancing to the cries of a newborn in a hospital ward. Smelling fresh bread in France and mimicking the northern lights in Canada. Shimmying through the buzz of a night market in Nigeria, mocking a street singer in Nepal.

But undoubtedly, this is where she’s headed. To the one she belongs to. To the one who’s been looking for her ever since she knew thoughts of her own. To the one who waits with a bruised but open heart and eyes feverish with overflowing dreams. To the one with warm arms opened in a half-forgotten embrace.

Hello, dearest.