It felt strange for the first time
But yet it felt familiar
The sound of it was vague to me
And yet, somewhere it was similar

Similar to that of a thousand starlings in song
while I touched the daffodils in bloom
And the breeze blowing the hair of my face
Impishly playing with it
When I sit next to the window in my room

The words had a succulent taste to them
Made me remember the time I first sucked a Popsicle
And the juices playing with my taste buds
But it was heavenly like that; maybe more
Though you may call me fickle

There was a fragrance to the touch, as he
Raised my hand, and took it close to his heart
Like the fragrance of the first rain drops
That evoke such a mesmerizing scent
When they kiss the parched terrains.

His heart beat was fast, his hands were shivery
And yet, there was pleasure in both
As he said aloud to me "I love you Marie"
And my hands then went cold

"How can you play a trick like this?" I screamed
"Playing with the emotions of a blind girl?"
I picked my stick, and furiously waved it
As I tried to find my way back home

Just then, he yoked the stick out of my hands
And yanked me back towards himself
And before I knew what became of me
He was kissing me, and I lost myself
To him, as we kept kissing each other for long


Popular posts from this blog

Call of the Hills - A humble attempt at telling the story of my people

What Vinay Sitapati Has Missed Out –The BJP-RSS’ View of India As seen in Fictional Writings by Deendayal Upadhyaya

Indic Nationalism, and the Role of Vedanta in India’s Freedom Struggle