He carry glasses of red wine in his eyes, And his lips, his lips are soft as rose petals, that attracts me everytime.. and I get attracted, I get attracted not caring about those thorns that pricks, God knows why, I appreciate every pain, which to me, he gives. His eyebrows are deep, with little love buds growing, and when he raises his one eyebrow up, his buds become beautiful mountains, where I dream to live, to love him more, forgetting everything and peacefully, I adore.
He's not muscular, like most other men, He's not muscular because he knows, his soft body is my heaven, So he live in the way I feel comfortable, He loves me, his love is too, a miracle. We planned to confess, some feelings yet to be expressed, with little smile, love in eyes, no flowers we carry, in our hearts, garden lies. We plan confessions, we sweat in exhalation, shivering and exhaustion, but at last, we didn't confess, because our love, is an exception.
We share same gender. He is He, and his lover too is, He. It's said, "right to love" is granted to all the gender, But appreciated is that love, where the four chambered heart of "His" falls in love with "Her's" four chamber. Because love of same gender isn't love, it's an "unliked" scene, Not love or crime, secretly it's a complete sin! I wonder if you say, love is the purest form, and pour all your dirty glance and thoughts on same gender love, as an unacceptable norm.
I know, "mentality change" isn't this society's cup of tea, You judge emotions that you don't even see. So I secretly love him, and he secretly loves me too, Our love is limited to us, but in this limitation, our world exists, We don't make confessions, our love hold commitments. In name of love, you play the game of terms and policy where insecurity too develops, to cage "good, acceptable love stories" in good looking envelopes! Love is never impure, not for you, and not even for LGBTQ community, You name it "illegal love", and we cherish this love as our blissful destiny.