Amitabh Vikram Dwivedi


Valentine’s Day

Wintry night is neither cold nor warm

Season of love, losing someone

Evening breeze is deceitful-

Lovers become losers,

Losers, lovers-

Between a fine blending of

I love you, and

I love you not

Someone finds a new girl,

And someone forgets an old boy.

A mixture of love and losing is in the air


Let us find someone

Who is not celebrating

My innocent love

My innocent love

Tries to find its ways to be with you

If ever it pines that is for you

Sometimes it offers- a cup of coffee

Only to see the curves of your lips

That insatiable look you always overlook

My innocent love-remains unspeakable

If ever it pines to wonder over your tawny softness

Now I realize why I love coffee so much

But every counted mug has its own bitterness

You think me immature-my poor love

It doesn’t offer big mouth, and empty dreams

If ever it begs that is for a smile, or a look

Now I know why my love is not innocent but poor

Because as you frankly say – “I hate beggars”


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