My map..

I know you like a crinkled old map.

That crooked smile that can light up my day,
Those uneven scars full of resolve that can always show me the way.
That deep cleft in which all my sorrows disappear,
Those rivulets of mirth around your mouth always ready to appear.
Those arms like mountains that are always ready to shield,
Those heels always grounded and dug in saying ‘no big deal!’

No wonder then I love you so much.
Even after a million, reaching out my hand for just one more touch.
Hearing you walk in, my stomach still gets tied in a knot.
Standing and watching you leave, waiting till you become a dot.

We will walk together till we are a hundred years old.
Love sick fools! Isin’t that what we are always told?
That look in your eyes will light me up even when I’m old bent and grey,
You’re mine, only my map, and folded in my pocket forever you’ll stay.

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