Tuesday, 1 August 2017

The love story

He kissed her forehead 
and felt the union of ice and lava 
sunflower and moonbeam;
he looked into her eyes
and within them 
unnamed oceans discovered;
he held her hand
and found salvation;
he whispered her name
again and again 
and willed his voice 
into a crazy orbit of her being
even as her ‘elusivity’ 
sidestepped love
tripped heart 
and birthed insanity;
and in that blessed intoxication
slumber collapsed into the arms of dreams.

She felt his lips on forehead
and thereafter of bindi had no need;
felt his eyes on her eyes
gaze on eyelash
breath on lips 
and realized
the outshadowing of eyeshadow
blush that bested blush
and the exquisite gloss 
that paled lipstick;
she felt his hand on wrist
and felt decorated with bangles;
she heard his words wrap
in a sari of a thousand kites
and felt thoughts blur into a singular perfume;
and thus did she make of him
a jeweler, a cosmetician, designer 
and dream-catcher.

And then they were silent
she and he --
and in that stillness
they read the timeless poetry
of moments 

that obliterated time. 

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