The love of my world says I am indifferent
to him. You are hot and warm too, he says. I chuckle but he has gotten me into
a pit. Though I have seen a many lives within me, but whenever he puts his hand
mildly on me, I feel like a baby, just delivered.
Its been days since we had a silence
together. The silent music and the faint breaths, it brings a sense of resonance
in our hearts. As he fluctuates, I reach to him and place my cheek against his.
The unrest rises and soon it falls. He falls with glee.
I read poetry to him. It’s cheaper
than actually going to places but equal pleasure. He gets bored. I am waving to
the deep blue sky at dawn and he pulls me away to play with my loose hair. Poets
are difficult, weird creatures. I raise a brow and turn. My benign smile acts
as a toxic. He likes poetry now.
On the rooftop. I admire the mysteries
and he whispers something in dark. There comes a colorful, a dreamful night. We
play along running, hiding towards and away from each other.
Near the dusk, I sit in his shed. He
enfolds me in his thoughts and I feel absolved.
There is a brisk shine in his eyes. Looking
at me like a firm and devoted sage, he asks for a poem.
My tender smile looks indefinite.
Wholeness it is.
3 comments:
This is so tender and warm.. just lovely..Susie
the simplicity and bliss of the moment can be felt.
Love this..."whenever he puts his hand on me I feel like a baby...just delivered"...I pray you always keep this wholeness.
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