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Ankita Gupta Sep 3
On some very rare occasions, or maybe every fortnight
I let you slip in my mind, in the middle of the night
Just a little I let my lips remember yours, the bittersweet taste and all
I run my fingers in your hair, maybe they weren't this long
Snapshots of you, fragments of your touch on my skin burns
And someday I won't remember, how there wasn't an inch between us
But tonight, I will let you slip in mind, just for this time
On some very rare occasions or maybe every fortnight
IncholPoem Jan 10
Today  is  tomorrow's  
fourth night.



Believe  it  or
    not
Yesterday   has  had
flowers   to  gift  you.




      Hence   the  coming
           season   of  February
would  be   very

    nasty!



       Believe   it  or  

                  not
Tomorrow's   tomorrow
would   be my
first   guest.


  Let  him  permit
to  fly   winter-kites
on   Indian  sky.

— The End —