Gone with the wind
Sombre lining on cloud nine
Reddish leaves on base of the bushes
Surreptitiously me in your arms
Brushing the hair strands off my face
Nestled on your brown nipples
Our bed, and we!
You smell so good
below the soft ear-lobes
Pedicured palms against my back
Catch the sun beams, over the reading glasses
My slim fingers on your spine
Coffee by the windows
Sits to go cold
Raise the bar!
Smooth the zig zag cervices
River gates of open pores
Forced chasms of us under the bedspread
I cling as a crushed creeper
muffled voice in folds
I beget us
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Kasturika Mishra is a Facebook blogger, a Hindi and an English poet, a translator, and an arts critic.
She is a librarian by profession.
She is a librarian by profession.
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