When you have gone at the dawn
You've gone at the break of dawn,
like a nymph, an apparition from a dream,
dissolves at first light,
the lingerie you left behind,
forgot to take, in your hurry,
bears your sensuous memory;
only touch of reality in the whole affair.
It tacitly tells, how it remembers
all that transpired between us,
all through last night,
by fluttering wildly
in the hands of titillating breeze,
to catch my drooping eyes.
