why are his hands supposed to be calloused and war-torn when my hands do just as much work?
why am i supposed to be the one that goes trembling into his arms when i can see how he’s the one that needs to be held for his mind is crumbling and the guilt of his deeds are eating him away?
why does he need to fight demons for me when he is incapable of fighting against his own?
when did love become a construct of one saving the other?
when did the fairer beings become the weaker beings?
when did the word ‘woman’ start becoming equivalent to 'fragile’?
why has love only been talked of when it is between the agile and the fragile?

why is that love great?

and what about equality?

—  tanvi r

Some #poetry for all the folks who love flirting…

I did not invite the blush
You must remember this
I did not ask for my blood vessels
To be so weak they would allow
This flush of red cells to couch surf in their space.

This blush has moved around my stuff
It has placed my heart on my sleeve
And any first year med student will tell you
That this is not where hearts should go
It has thrown out all the clothes it didn’t like
Which is all my clothes
It pained lewd alchemical symbols across your front door
And it has read my diary
And live-tweeted the contents.

This blush finds my feelings very funny
So do its Twitter followers
This blush finds my poetry very funny
So do its Twitter followers
This blush found an early draft of *this poem*
And it finds it very funny.
I don’t yet know how funny its followers find this
It has not finished tweeting it yet.
Early signs are positive.

I did not invite the blush
But I must admit it hasn’t been all bad
This blush has improved the Feng Shui of my internal organs
This blush has shown me how to party
This blush and I went on a road trip to Las Vegas
And we lost everything
But learned some valuable lessons
The blush taught me how to be less uptight about drinking coffee in my car
And now my car has brown stains and smells of coffee
And now I cannot forget the good times we had in the car
They invade my nostrils every time I drive
Like I am snorting memories
Or laughter.

This blush thinks I should tell you
That the way your arm flexes a little
And the elegant curvature of your muscular geometry
When you wave to me from a distance
Makes me blush
It thinks it’s important that I do this.
It has moved my heart to my sleeve
Which is not where hearts should live
But it is where my heart is now.

This is my command: Love each other as I have loved you. The greatest love a person can show is to die for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know what his master is doing. But I call you friends, because I have made known to you everything I heard from my Father. You did not choose me; I chose you. And I gave you this work: to go and produce fruit, fruit that will last. Then the Father will give you anything you ask for in my name. This is my command: Love each other.
John 15:12-17 New Century Version