For Now…and…

 

the curtain is flapping on the girth of the window in end-March late spring morn gust.

you’re here in my arms; am drinking the smells of yours; am finding comfort in your breath.

this is what I’m destined for to hold you in my arms forever in my memories after I woke up.

the morning is gay, the breeze being gust; untidyng my tidy room; resonating echo of once.

you’re here on my chest; you’re humming songs of Tagore; your fingers playing on my chest.

this is what I destined for to have you lock in my chest in imagination at gay morn like today.

the morning is early, still young; a calm, sereness is blended into the bidding spring wind.

you’re here looking at me, your chin on the hand resting on my chest; we both want no kiss.

this is what I destined for to see a pleasing morning turn to a melancholic one–

for now…and…