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Ananya Bhaskar Quote - Your name is a song my thoughts dance on until they reach the tip of my quill.

Your name is a song my thoughts dance on until they reach the tip of my quill.

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Your lips taste a lot like petrichor, on my rainy days.
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Gift him flowers and watch him blushing like even fall.
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You’re breathed all over the walls of my lungs and I don’t know how to breathe you out.
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I’m the ocean swaying with the harmony of your moon.
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You deserve the love that stays with you like the childhood poem you still remember by heart.
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Poetry is an eulogy, sung for hope and love.
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He killed her autumn with his cherry blossom smile.
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Once the sky dreamt of kissing the earth and everyone called it horizon.
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Your name is a song my thoughts dance on until they reach the tip of my quill.
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Art is the sound of a human dying to be an immortal artist.
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Night is a song, moon and sad people can sing along.
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And then writer in you is so homesick of pain, that you plead your wounds to bleed and ache.
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He’s shy, he talks to her only. She’s bold, she listens to him only.
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And the biggest irony is you spend a lifetime finding someone to love and then die learning how to unlove them.
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You can see heaven or earth in her pupils when she’s smiling, and happy for real.
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She’s never silent, you can always listen her soul speaking the tongue of poetry.
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