Dirt Of A Free Mind

I saw colors of my sins: each freckled on my skin, sewed on
my collar, tied with my solitary soul; pinching, pushing,
breaking, crushing, bleeding red.
I cry black and white, laugh saffron, begin with a green and
end up grey.
Are my sins gay?
How blessed my fate is?
I carry a pocket full of darkness, crashed and burned, with
ashes left under my scarf.
But still I look into the sky and feel blue!!

©DEEPANKAR_TRIPATHI

Imagine, you just woke up early morning at 4 and do not feel like sleeping anymore.
You throw ur blanket like a ninja and rush to the balcony.
You see a thick layer of a dense fog all aroud your body, dimming your eye sight, forcing you to run inside the blanket, but you're a beauty seeker, a solitary soul.

You dont feel cold at 6 degrees of temperature even you just had a night piece on your body, almost nothing.
The cold wind is so heartbreaking and loving at the same time, trying to undress you and kiss your all body parts, from top to bottom, every curve, and every corner, giving you the better touch and feel than you've ever got from your partner while submitting all of you to him/her, getting intimate, and making love at your room on a perfect and romantic winter night.

You just stay there letting the cold breeze play with your body shores, with a fragile touch, seducing and compelling you to go all the way and play with your body by yourself, in the aroma of the soothing and strong breeze, watching and feeling the miracle of an early winter morning, the beauty of the nature.

You come inside ur room, prepare a hot cup of coffee, and manage some cigarettes by finding here and there.
You take the novel from the table, go inside your blanket and
start reading it from where u left last night.
A sip of coffee and a puff of cigarette is followed by hundreds of words and dozens of tries to get the flow again with a proper imagination to feel the same. You keep smoking, drinking your coffee, one after one, and continue reading the novel.
But you cant do that for long, coz its 6:30 and u have to rush for the office.
How unlucky you are? Ain't you?

#DEEPANKAR_TRIPATHI

You are radioactive.
I'm radioactive.
Love is radioactive.
When we meet, nuclear fusion happens that makes us one.
When we left apart, you survive, I survive, love decays.
No one can predict the mean life.
That's how it happens.
That's how it should be.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
Remember, we are radioactive, love is radioactive.