Forty five hours

'Why are you so dumb this beautiful evening?'
She asked me,
Smelling of Lavender...


Red pullover, glossy lipstick,
Marked eyebrow,
A neat bun,
A lot of couture...

'What are you looking at?'
'At you...'
'Me! Am I a stranger to you?'

Silver bracelet, blue jeans,
Pink mascara,
A rainbow clip,
A lot of lust...

'Not earlier, but now'
'Now? why?'
'Don't know...'

Forty five hours,
Three hours short of two complete days,
Three hours short of two rotations,
Just three hours...
Or just forty five hours of silence
After a long drawn brawl-
Within and without;

Red pullover smiled,
Placed nimble fingers on a sweaty palm,
'You're a fool!'

'Eureka!'
Me shouted,
And jumped
On the softness
To wipe off forty five hours of deathly strife;

A few paces away,
The hag with the grumpy face,
Counted silver-
Oblivious of Adams
And Eves;
Ignorant of Forty five hours' angst
That raged a storm
A few paces away.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Like sleepy , a lullaby...

The warm wintry sun and we