They Called This Love

She misses certain things
Like when he held her legs like roses stems.
She misses certain things
Like when he kissed her lips and drank from them.
He missed certain things like freedom and liberty
And the day before they met.
She misses certain things like stability and security
And the day before they said goodbye.

So she holds her knees and cries
And begs and asks him why.

And he wishes he could sip her tears like a potion
And change the colours of his emotion,
Lather on some lotion of love
And glow with what she is dreaming of.
But the heart works not this way.

And so she holds her knees and cries
And begs and asks him why.

And he says pompously that this is the way that things must be,
Simply with such finality,
As if he were the ruler of the worlds.
And he hates himself.
He hates himself more than she hates him.
But he knows that this is the way that things must be.

So she says in the end
That she cannot be friends
And so in the end he walks away.

And she holds her knees and cries
And begs and asks him why
They ever called this love.

Copyright © 2005 Prabhath Avadhanula