Penned By B D Narayankar
She spells a charm
into the sunglasses
smokes it with her breathe
and seeks me out
to hang it around my collar
but,
that's an excuse
to hold me in her embrace
She seeks for the washroom
in her office
sprinkles water on her face
but that's an excuse
to hide her tears that
the tender verses of my poem brings
She pulls my portrait
close to her chest
and tucks it in her bosom,
saying I don't have it
but that's an excuse to search her
All these ...
I wonder
would it happen
in this lifetime?
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