LOVE (K)NOT - a Duet

SIDDHARTH CHOUDHRY

I mistake your need to free me for hate.
I felt your compulsion was wish-fulness.
I understood your lack of commitment was worship.
When your "hate" started to pain, I blamed you.
I thought I was too wanton.
I wondered if you were together.
But then I was foxed.
SUNITHA CHOUDHRY

I was foxed. Your hate was as potent as love.
Your obsession mirrored all that Love could free,
I blamed myself for your lack of commitment.
My pain the Sea of your seething discontent.
I thought I was wanton to my intrepid mind,
But in reality I, just a prisoner of your thoughts,
For in trying to understand what you and me are about,
I figured out most emphatically, what Love is not.
SIDDHARTH CHOUDHRY 

I was frittered 'cause your love was as healing as hate.
Your compulsiveness reflected all that Hate could possibly contain,
When I deranged myself for your fill of commitment,
Our meeting was the Sky of stealing misconduct.
But magically I was a liberator of your feelings;
For in trying to believe what you and me are not,
I figured out, like an epiphany, why Love cannot be bought.
SUNITHA CHOUDHRY

A beautiful Mess is a comfort when it is the same,
for same is akin to love when pain is a seductive shame,
the separation of your desires reflect my obsessive compulsions
while my compulsions fuel your desirous obsessions;
Epiphany arrives with out much fan fare,
on wings of a moment etched with finality flair;
goodbye to a me the one who defines you,
for the prisoner is now you and not a me.

A love Not

 I was foxed because your hate was as potent as love.

Your obsession mirrored all that Love could possibly free,

When I blamed myself for your lack of commitment,

My pain was the Sea of your seething discontent.

I thought i was a wanton of my intrepid mind,

But in reality I was a prisoner of your thoughts,

For in trying to understand what you and me are about,

I figured out most emphatically, what Love is not.

A beautiful Mess is comforting when it feels the same,

for same is akin to love when pain is also beautiful,

the separation of your desires become my obsessive compulsions

while my compulsions fuel your desirous obsessions;

Epiphany arrives with out much fan fare,

an eternal moment etched out with final flair;

goodbye to a me the one who defines you,

for the prisoner is now you and not a me.