If only

I wonder, if our pillows could talk.

Would they tell each other the things they feel about us?
I bet mine would be jealous of your lap, seeing how much time i spend there.
Or yours, of my chest.

What do you think, the wrinkled sheets would say? Will they tell stories of how i got these marks on my back? Or of how close we are to each other, that we don’t even use all of it.

I would thank the fan though. For always putting that strand of hair on your face, again and again, just so that I can move it.

I bet the lights would be jealous of you. For their brightness could never match your radiance. Even the moon light would be jealous of that.

My lips curse me. Nothing is ever good enough for them, now that they’ve tasted you. They carry those bite marks as trophies, you know.

Even my tongue reminds me of you, subtly touching where you bit me. Some scars feel so homely.

Something is always missing, say my eyes as they are not able to find you in the frame to complete it. That sparkle is gone.

I never knew, if you could hold somebody’s fragrance. Now, my scent is you.

Ever heard something with so much love that your heart melted? My mind keeps playing you back otherwise my ears, they throw a fit!

If only the walls of this rooms could speak,they’d talk about the happiness there was.
The peace which you brought.
The tears you took away.

The life, or atleast, of what we thought.

If only now, we could talk. I bet, we wouldn’t stop.