Come let me hold you


Friday, August 2, 2019


Amateur desires.
Young. Naïve. Pure.
Tugging at an equally amateur heart.
Irresistible impulses.
Tantalizing lure.
Of the brimming chalice.
The pulsating life.
The fragile fragments.
The simmering smoldering embers.
The quivering moon.
The yearning, the longing for monsoons.
The savory flavors lilting at the lips,
their taste lingering.
Till long after.


Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.