Do you smell calls?
I do.
While some calls smell like Spring,
And some like the summer rain.
Then there are types of summer;
Sweaty and humid
Drought and arid
Dehydrating beyond summer
And then there is the dirty sock,
Or the dead fish.-
And walks past me,
Tail high, whiskers clean,
I realise,
She lets me live in her house-
Their waists collided,
Hairs on him, tingling her belly button,
His fingers ploughed her bare back,
As she moved live Ivy
She held his face,
nails running through nose-to-eyes-to-lips
and again, lustful to take bite.
Her tounge slipped, and he pounded,
The ivy wound it's legs,
And pulled him back.
Her tooth scratched his neck,
He moaned, and grabbed the peaches.
He poked into her, and she moaned.
Necks tilted, breath shared,
they turned the lights off,
As the breathing got harder.-
She rested her head on his shoulder, he rode cautiously on the left of the road. The light breeze brushing through the receding hairline.
On an old Splendor, he traversed potholes, hopped speed breakers, in the smoothest way possible, all while she slept on.
Her hands rested on his belly, and he didn't flinch as the summer sun gleamed.
It felt the time had slowed down for them, world summed in a piggyback ride.-
As we walk across fields,
Entertained yet annoyed by wild.
Wanting to sush the noises,
And wondering if it's the bird,
or the squirrel
Or those tiny insects,
hiding behind green and dry leaves.
To pluck a mango
And to squint an eye with first bite,
And for an "aah!" In the next one.
To enjoy the lite breeze
And the setting sun
With a sip of a tea-
To slow the heart a bit,
To calm the breath down,
To fill the loneliness the bed feels
Let me fall
But oh wait,
There's another task
Before I fall-
It's October again,
The winter meets monsoon
The farms are still wet
And umbrellas in the bag pocket.
Warmers yet to be unpacked,
Marriages are still on the planners.-
It's necessary to take a break.
We are wired to work, to put efforts and to keep going. "Pause, scan around, and be empty", something we read in the posts, motivational posters, but never put to practice.
Step into "Tadasana", slow your breath and let the universe slow down.
You need it, I need it-
The little dew drop,
Which travelled the stream,
Hit the rocks, slipped past banks,
Hopped the twigs, blockers and the garbage
To be part of her vastness
To be larger than a drop
-
A. Man, it's already a month since we spoke!!! Time just flew... Phew
-