wounded by a smile,
bruised by a glance.
Intoxicated by her
eyes and drowned in
feeling of how you
felt around him?
What if you're moved
by the aura of jasmines,
shaken by the flutter
of butterflies?
and to melt in
someone’s arms,
to gasp over unhinged
confessions-
To watch the moon
and be sad over
the nostalgia you
can't enjoy-
You'll be damned
when the definition
of all traditional weapons
fall short against a
certain fragility-
Really damned,
when gentleness
cuts through the swords
and you die because
someone was kind.