i wish i could promise you
Picture-perfectness. Because,
mi amore, i want to.
You remember, that hot afternoon?
when i playfully draped maa's saree,
so you could touch
my waist.
And i started to ask, whether you would buy for me
a similar one - white bordered with gold
of the softest cotton from Madurai.
The pallu slipped off then
and the story of chais on the balcony
during June storms fell away too
while you kissed the edge
of a sun-drenched shoulder...
And that was it. Right then.
But it never,
came by again.
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