Let go the want to watch for
The gates to open,Like
Beyond lies fate, or
Attempts to hear a knock in between
The pauses of time,they call
It a blank space.
Let him fly to you
With the wind,riding
On its hem
swiftly and softly.
Let him land uninviting
With the sweet waters,on
Your parched lips.
Let him run an errand,and hold
You off-guard,
Let his fingers leeway
On your freckled cheeks, as if
Motifs embroidered to augment your beauty
Let him dig them across your little graceful curves
And hold with the fingertips,evoking
The resting neurons and laid back impulses
Let him move his lips,lightly
On the back of your neck
And heal its lovelorn shriveled surface,because
yours is butter-skin
Forgive, if the blood trickles,off
passion and smear
your colorless life.
-Pallavi Goswami
