A storm always rages inside me these days–turmoiling my train of thoughts.
I want to remain deep in your eyes, in your embrace,
(I want to remain) shrouded in your hair, on your neckline.
I want to take nibble of that fair soft skin of yours,
(I want to) take your lips inside mine and hold for countless seconds.
The smell of your skin is the long-lost perfume that had lead a town into lost sanity.
A storm always raging inside me these days–re-meaning my believes–
Of love, of lust, of trust, of relationship.
I want you to forget who is your husband.
I want (myself) to forget the anger I hold.
To-noon let me get dipped in fair skins of yours, in slender lips of yours…
Keep me in shrouded in your hair, on your neckline…
A storm re-painting the screens of my mind these days; overthought of your return–
(is) the favorite shade followed by the silence of yours…