I've snuggled in your embrace,
Smuggled and sneaked in
On you on tiptoe
(On the tip of a bubble)
Kissed you a million times,
Cringed with shyness,
Pretended to scoff at you
To break into laughter
And clasp my hands with yours.
Bumped into you
At some street, on some staircase,
Letting you spiral down a step further
Into my soul's merkaba.

I have sketched you in fervent hues
I have penned you in vivacious blues
I have perused you numerous times
In my pursuit of you.
Fondled you after fumbling for you
In my dog-eared memories
Of my portrait of you
On a blank wall of my reality.

I've often visualised you
Lurking around the corner of a street,
On another day, in a library maybe,
As I gleefully offer my mind for you to read
In lieu of the book that we picked
At the same instance.

At times I let these scenes
Play on a little longer in my head,
(None of it ever happened anyway)
Till the juncture when you walk up to me
(in those scenes)
While I
Freeze the moment then and there,
When you're probably just about to utter
Something I may have been longing to hear.
To then move to a distance
And admire that still frame I'd set,
Picturing a dewy winter morning
On a summer evening.
Till the sounds, sights and smells disperse

Till we part ways like always,
Without having met, yet!
To meet again in an unfamiliar setting
Against the backdrop of familiar feelings
Born anew
In the thrill of anticipation (of)
The certainty of uncertainties.

Trust me my dear,
Your visage will fail
To do justice to my portrait of you.
Let us meet  and be lost
In my mind's tangled sketches alone.