I stand in awe as my body lies in another’s arms,
I watch in wonder how it rests in another's curves.
There was a dream once,
Of a firm shoulder and a warm breast,
But like everything else,
Dreams shifted in their place.
Like the tree that welcomes four seasons
And the river that carries new memories every day,
My body embraces fresh smells and skins,
Shedding them like snake-moults every night.
It delights in the contractions of lust,
Unabashed, it screams in joy at each hurt.
It becomes a saint for the day and the whore of the night,
It laughs at the moral farce and flirts with carnal desires.
It challenges the heart, beats the logic of the mind,
And like wanton breeze,
Slides through faces and deep-seated drives.
All the while, I stand in lost thoughts,
Unknowing whether to admire or despair.
When my body walks ahead of me,
What can I do but follow it lamely?
And yet, we come together for a while,
Before the nightfall, before the taste of sweat n blood
prevails:
She tells me that she loves me,
And I say, so do I.
One comforting hug, and we fall apart,
But I know her feelings well,
And she knows mine.
- - -
Namitha Varma is a media professional and a self-proclaimed narcissist based in Mangalore, India. She is a voracious reader, a music enthusiast and an opinionated social observer. Her works have been published in eFiction India and can also be found atnarcissistwrites.blogspot.com.
