Started by Divesh's wanting to see if the abundance of time, money, or love is anywhere close to being as romantic as their scarcity. I've tried to say yes (or no).
Time
I raise my eyes from the newspaper
to your face, engrossed in your book.
It is changed, and I haven't kept track
for a number of years now,
but I don't expect to be surprised,
by anything,
except maybe the fact that we're having coffee
at a shop, for some reason,
instead of our dining table, or somewhere around.
People around us seem to be moving
incredibly faster.
I sit and wonder, if change for us
is worth it, or even possible.
Our days have chafed against one another
in the past,
but have smoothed until
one gives to way to
an indistinguishable another.
What we leave off today,
we can continue tomorrow, or never.
If only someone was dying.
Money
I happened to take a walk in a street -
pretty, elegant and serene,
trees drooping over houses, soft-lit and in need
of no additions or repair,
with enough roofed and open space
for a person to live out
all his good times and bad.
I was surprised
because I belong in one of those houses,
actually it belongs to me,
and I could hear a noise somewhere,
that I couldn't trace to any of those,
which in fact appeared uninhabited
except for the soft lights and the immaculate repair.
I walked for a long while,
saw nothing unusual
and felt prohibited myself from doing anything so.
That evening my street
felt pretty, elegant and serene,
and I couldn't help thinking -
so does a graveyard.
Love
I remember when we started out,
I used to try hard
and sleep at the end of each day
happy and drained.
And when I slipped once,
you said it was okay.
I never rose above that level
once you accepted me there.
And then I slipped some more,
and it was okay again,
and again, and again.
I fell, and fell, and fell
with nothing to stop or support me.
I found your love undiminished,
and continued to fall
until I was at the bottom,
feeling the incredible pressure,
unable to see or breathe anything else.
I had no choice but to leave
the endless ocean of your love.
Time
I raise my eyes from the newspaper
to your face, engrossed in your book.
It is changed, and I haven't kept track
for a number of years now,
but I don't expect to be surprised,
by anything,
except maybe the fact that we're having coffee
at a shop, for some reason,
instead of our dining table, or somewhere around.
People around us seem to be moving
incredibly faster.
I sit and wonder, if change for us
is worth it, or even possible.
Our days have chafed against one another
in the past,
but have smoothed until
one gives to way to
an indistinguishable another.
What we leave off today,
we can continue tomorrow, or never.
If only someone was dying.
Money
I happened to take a walk in a street -
pretty, elegant and serene,
trees drooping over houses, soft-lit and in need
of no additions or repair,
with enough roofed and open space
for a person to live out
all his good times and bad.
I was surprised
because I belong in one of those houses,
actually it belongs to me,
and I could hear a noise somewhere,
that I couldn't trace to any of those,
which in fact appeared uninhabited
except for the soft lights and the immaculate repair.
I walked for a long while,
saw nothing unusual
and felt prohibited myself from doing anything so.
That evening my street
felt pretty, elegant and serene,
and I couldn't help thinking -
so does a graveyard.
Love
I remember when we started out,
I used to try hard
and sleep at the end of each day
happy and drained.
And when I slipped once,
you said it was okay.
I never rose above that level
once you accepted me there.
And then I slipped some more,
and it was okay again,
and again, and again.
I fell, and fell, and fell
with nothing to stop or support me.
I found your love undiminished,
and continued to fall
until I was at the bottom,
feeling the incredible pressure,
unable to see or breathe anything else.
I had no choice but to leave
the endless ocean of your love.
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