Of Lovers & About Friends

A soft touch, a delicate statement,

Like a gentle command 'wake up' she said

In a sweet tone, like the purr of a cat,

Whose daily dose of lactose has been found,

He let his senses return to him 'Amit',

She let the word sink into the sunshine,

As the rays fell in an awkward scatter,

A collage of light and dark with,

Streaks of green and yellow that coated the walls

'Aanya.' He replied,

pulling his specks to look past the shroud,

Of focal distortion and to clarify,

If it was her, satisfied, he pulled her naked limb to his,

In a lazy attempt to induce a hormonal discharge,

That bled ecstasy from her veins and from her lips,

Escaped a gentle moan, soft as the leaf,

That lands an autumn to the ground it stood higher above

'Not now' she placed his hands on her stomach,

'Feel the moon in its cyclic turns,

Move in my body, even if delayed by a day.'

He placed his hand there

his thoughts embedded in her belly button

And felt the torsion,

The motion of a crore planets in trajectories

across the Fallopian tubes,

'I feel' he said and slid gently below,

Drew closer, as a curtain that binds lights,

To the outer confines and placed his lips,

Symmetrically in the junction between hers

And drew her ecstasy as it ebbed muffled,

Behind sheets, blinds and the morning chirping

Noon came, as the sun looked upon,

All of life light up, like a bulb aware

of all the inhabitants in the room,

And still plastered from the sunrise hour,

Amit reading the wall; in it's script of moss and decay,

Begging for paint to dilute its decayed state,

Aanya feeding sleep to waking hours,

The sheets compressed to her voluptuous frame,

Amit changed his view to her,

Traversing the lands he fancied she was,

From the hills of her breast to the valley of her thighs,

Turning slowly and receding like the waves of the sea,

Calm and gently, playing with the shore,

He mellowed her wild hair,

In gentle strokes about the edges,

Perfumed in the loveliness that only youth,

Can conjure, glass castles of ever aging foundations

The edges of her eyes parted,

Like two ends of a thought meeting to actualisation,

Drawn on her face, a careless smile and a yawn that caught,

The afternoon by surprise as the hymn of a fly,

Ceased and fled, for waking returned,

'What are you doing?' She asked in a low voice,

So the matters could be theirs to address,

But he did not reply, for he felt no need,

And the answer in his discretion of speech,

For lack speech invites lack of action

As a meaningful translation

'What shall we do now?' He asked

Pulling her closer till their heartbeats could feel,

Each other's dance, their blood like parallel streams,

And nerves electric wires that induce into each other

An eddy current which is meaningful and full of charm,

Her naked body twined to his like two tendrils,

Proximity that binds as she caresses his back

'Nothing' she said 'We die tomorrow,

Day after our ashes are churned and scattered,

Across the land, from earth to begin and end,

Our existence to feed the soil that shall

Bear fruits for consumption to the next of our kin,

So for now let's sit naked on the bed,

Waste time to make some at the back of our head,

Where we can choose to keep or forget.' Saying so caught,

The seat of his passion as he leapt and she,

Breathed into it fire and from its embers drove,

The seeds of passion that bore the bell tower,

That clocked the hours of the noon till twilight and night