Warholian Love

‘Neath the Oreo moon

and the 7up sparkle of the stars

you gave me your PlayDoh heart

and I shared with you

my Photoshopped dreams.

We knew then

that it would only last

until the next iPhone;

that it was only as unique

as the million other

Chinese replacements.

And yet

we revelled

revelled in the madness

the mass-produced madness

of our Mtv love.

            ;)

Ananthashayan

There are infinite loves,
and there are ones
that will fit into
the sliver of sunlight
from a crack in the drapes
falling across the nape
of his neck
as he sleeps.

To Change

New Year Resolutions, Pep Talks,

Motivational Speakers,

Oprah Winfrey.

All, in unison: change.

But just between the two of us:

what about those weird, out-of-sorts moments

when we wonder

just who we were?

Where that girl you saw in the photo

the other day

went?

Where you got the mad courage

to sail through that rough patch

(disturbing, how that once looming Apocalypse

now seems like something you read about)

sometime in the recent past?

You face

A New Person

in the mirror

each day.

Where do the

Old You’s

go?

You look for Them

in the mirrors,
the photographs

the memories

the old diary entries.

That there are so many of them,

that they seem like Strangers,

scares you.

Doesn’t it?

Change.

(look at the word for a while it seems strange all of a sudden devoid of meaning it isn’t what it was before you read it)