Innocently
you had put the Curtains on
but you liked the Sunlight
trespassing the monolith wall
of your living room
you had other plans
to light a dim fluorescent light
which made you look
a lesser shade of pink
or was it your boldness
painted by a blush?
When i touched your cheeks
to verify the pink
your lips opened
voluntarily
not concealing
your vulnerability
and we kissed
in reality
or was that a metaphor
hitting on
my hallucination?
We probed each other
and there was no diagnosis
and no remedy
speed was an option
but a pale yellow light
sneaking through
the windowpane
had a message
with a wink
that the Afternoon was still alive
and we had much time
to ourselves
We fired up the afternoon sun
and i shut the pink dull light
from my eyes
your curves emanated a light of their own
and your voice
accentuated the arousal
we made a meeting with our naughty selves
concealed from the afternoon
and the extended afternoon,
which many claim to be an onset of early evening
didn’t ask us to stop
we couldn’t
so we didn’t
The curtains are still not open
This post first appeared on Listless Dawn - Poetry By Sandeep Kulshrestha, please read the originial post: here
