The That Date

The New Yorker sign was still bright red. He put on his black tee, the last piece of his clothing lying on the floor, the first piece that he took off earlier that date. He pulled out his phone, tapped for a few moments, raised up his head, with his satisfied look, uttered “it will be here in 5 minutes”.

They knew what the time they spent was going to be. There was silence that needed filling. And right then, the Bluetooth speaker started playing…

SHAIKSPHERE

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Los Angeles

Los Angeles is a land of dreamers

Either you are living a dream
Or you are chasing a dream
Neither if you are

You are a weary soul with a baggage staring at the star studded ceiling upon the sand stuffed bed

SHAIKSPHERE

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Serenity

Droplets the size of pollen, wetting up the leaves. Pouches carrying those grains of life are clouding up the sun, just the right amount to have the light through yet not the golden sheen. A white blanket across the sky, with the right tinge of grey signalling the right years of wisdom across the heaven’s forehead…

The background is the collection of beautiful renditions on a New Orleans based street-performers’ rustic violin, interspersed with electronic music support…

The cheapest couch from the Swedish showroom adding the right colour tone to mimic the world on the other side of the window…

The breeze ruffling the branches like those fingers running across the hair of their beloved…

It’s an undreamt reality, but a serene one for sure…

SHAIKSPHERE

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A Little Wish

​It’s raining.

Droplets tipping their way across the window sills.

Rushing away towards their end as fast as they began.

A hand making an imprint on the misty screen.

A little wish, a wider imprint engulfs mine.

SHAIKSPHERE

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Lovely Weather

It’s such a lovely weather. The trickling droplets on my window, the tapping sounds on my moon window, the whistling noise of the breeze, the deafening silence of life…

All that’s missing is the warmth of the soul and the presence of the sole. A touch, a breath, a rhythm of the heart beating, synchronised with my own…

I always feel I’m asking for too much, since if it weren’t, I might have had it already…

Nah, isn’t depressing, though wouldn’t lie it isn’t sad…

If I could only send this to the one who I wish needs to read it, maybe to the one who wants to read it…

SHAIKSPHERE

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