Aabi

Say lah! We.

...

My eyes had ants in them
from exhaustion, when you kissed me.
And we spent the hesitant night
painting a lonely stairwell
Blood red.

...

"Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. 
All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red."

...

Your face is now an entirely divorced dream
I keep in an envelope, and it's interesting:
in your absence, I have fallen in abject love
with the extreme aestheticism of
the corners of your mouth.

What a funny love. A love that began last night
when I happened upon a photograph of you - when
your face hit me, and settled
somewhere in the pit of my stomach -
and a love without an end.

A love that can but meet with hate and pain,
but a love that I cannot help.
I do not want to help.

...

Urdu?
Tabeez bana ke pehne tujhe.

...

I am done being strong.
If I can but ever be in love with an idea, so be it.