I know love survives heartbreak, because true love doesn’t break: A poem 

I can figure out the disfigurements 

And make infrastructure out of every fracture 

I am not a loss of ingenuity, in the overwhelmingly  

intimidating connivance. Even time has no substance! 

I can grow self upon self; and never forget the self 

that lies buried deep under. This is a condition 

of my earthliness. I don’t need archaelogy 

to discover what is hidden beneath! 

I don’t think original love is a forsaken posterity 

I can be broken, but not severed 

Dismembered, but never disparate 

I am just a stone’s throw away from eternity 

Now, even a compassionate neighbour of it, 

forgetting my passions and aspirations in dispassionate endearance! 

I have never devolved into a foreignness to myself 

Because I am confident of my legitimacy and authenticity 

I don’t need to proclaim love 

It is not even something I keep hiding 

Just a procrastination. Since its recess from the originality. 

It is an injustice to not have love 

But a depth of sheer shaming convenience to have it with the treachery 

I am avowed to keep myself safe and distant 

Two dimensions that never meet or overlap 

I must resign to love’s perplexities of an understood faraway perenniallity!  

For it is as much forbidden as forbading!