Rupi Kaur Poems

Alessandro Da Luca is the most feared man, a Relentless businessman and a vicious mafia boss. He used to take what he wanted. He chose her. She couldn't save herself from his tricks. He gave her a choice, but there was a twist. She had to sacrifice her family. She couldn't be pathetic. So, she agreed to walk into his golden cage, willingly.

NOTE:: PLEASE READ MAFIA EMPEROR (Book One) . . I leaned back in my chair with a heavy sigh and glanced up at the moon in the sky. It was full and shining brightly in the clear sky. I glanced down at the display. It was midnight. The new day began. He didn't remember this day nor he come. I stared at the cake with tearful eyes, "It must be something important." I told myself and pushed on my feet. Unhappiness drowned me.

Tunnels deconstructs the individual’s Romantic fascination with ‘love’ or the grammaticality of beauty. Ideally, the ‘tunnels’ in the collection are subterranean love poems from the suburban imaginary. These seemingly syntactic tunnels travel through one’s literary imagination or heterotopic dreamscapes, and while αγάπη (Greek for ‘love’) inspires these rhizomic tunnels to navigate the abysmal ‘meta-spectacle’ of gesture, language or moment of poemness, the mind like the many-colored jeepneys of Manila, where driving past roast goose restaurants in Shek Kip Mei or spotting stilt houses in Kampong Kleang, attempt to explore the transgeneric textualities of the everyday, alongside the unstructurality of time and space, the littoral and the liminal.

While cleaning Desmond Maynard's house, I accidentally knocked over his mother's keepsake. He once told me it was his most precious possession. But when I picked it up, hundreds of love letters spilled out. There were beautiful poems, passionate lyrics, and heartfelt confessions. He had written one letter a week without stopping. On the back of each one wrote a line: To My Love, Bunny. The nickname rang a bell. It was his junior in college. Things started to make sense. I slaved away for 13 years, running his household and caring for his family, but Desmond never even said he liked me. That was because he already had someone he liked. I sorted the letters by date, put them back, and grabbed my phone to make a call. "Mom, I'm in for the marriage proposal."