Your immoral love makes me immortal,
That’s how I feel when I am around you and that’s the way I like it,
See Eliot, Love is always selfish,
We love ourselves so much that we fall into love of others, when they love our very authentic selves!
It’s like reflecting in the mirror- liking the same image!
I like the image you show me,
The curves that bends over when you are near,
The stains that you put on me- let it be engraved,
Imprints of your fingertips- speaks a volume,
Like a melody ringing in my mind when you aren’t close!
Immoral or immortal,
A man’s love is always corrupted,
And, we desire corruption,
The ‘Loot’ you bring upon the ancestral divine,
We love to get robbed because we are so tired of protecting it!
Locked in a treasury inside the devious lands-
We disdain, loath to fathom,
And, then like a ‘Pirate’ you come to steal us,
Steal our bodies and minds,
Our hearts and emotions that runs in vein,
We enjoy the thrill of getting robbed!
You a thief, I welcome you in my shrine,
C’mon indulge in!
At the end we revolt in the form of ‘immoral love’,
To gather all our shattered pieces of self-perceptions,
The intimacy we crave shall not go with us in our graves,
That’s why we release it!
Then again, I have to ask,
Does immoral love makes one immortal?!
©® Farheen Bhuiyan Nancy