Love is like the language of mother 

It can be

Soft

Aggressive 

Furious

Mild 

Sweet

Or at times, bitter 

But it is never devoid of under-standing,

It is because when we are yet to acquire 

The language to demand our needs

She has got the language to feel it

The purpose of the love is the same 

Though its language may be different at times 

But if it is love, it does not lack 

Under

           Standing  

                           Each 

                                    Others 

Though it sounds stupid 

Irrational

But in love 

One develops an ability 

To feel each other 

Even in the absence 

Of each others 

Because love is a science of  emotions

In which each new theory 

Rejects the previous one

To build ourselves 

Newly 

Gradually, or sometimes

Radically

In accordance with the law of life 

We are two different languages 

Trying to make sense of one thing called 

Love 

Sometimes, it is alright 

To lose ourselves in translation

Of the text of togetherness  

In case you miss me

and want to touch me

Come here

To this poem

I am here

You can see me 

Read it

You can hear me, touch me 

As 

Long 

As 

You 

Read,

I 

Am 

With 

You 

I may not be able to buy

Things you need

To be happy in life 

But for you

I’ll leave these words

They will guide you 

To the happiness you need

When things will no longer

Be capable to do so