For every voiceless sigh
I can see you, teasing the warmth left
In your palpable heart.

Its like the song of welcoming an unknown winter,
Where we once breathed in unison,
under an orchid :
sharing lies to be forgotten, to exile each other
from the warm belonging.
Poured upon us , the drop of truths
still vehemently jealous
Of our lips, who patiently and mutely
remember the arch of touch.

How close we have been, today
This becoming,the voiceless drift.
A soft touch never spills secret.
It brews it.

If music is the cupid of love
Let it rehearse itself,
Till we forget the tunes

How does it feels to be soundless,
While sitting next to you,
is the beginning of the end
and end of the beginning.

– Shashank Bhardwaj