Sunday, April 03, 2005


I walk in there.
And, as if by design
Our eyes meet.
Lock for a fleeting moment
Unlocking in me, languorously
The fabrication of desire.
The cascades of emotions
Tripping on each other
Engulfing me languidly
In the tortuous fire.
Molting the sleet.
Yielding -
Unsettling the intrinsic schema.

I look away.
Perchance, it seems so plain.
But almost in the tripping moment
Am drawn,
To seek that look again.
My native quiescent in disarray.
I can no longer eclipse,

I so wish to see you again.

© Preeti Bose


_Soulless_ said...

the eyes can caress with more mastery and potency than hands can ever will... *sigh*

Blue Athena said...

Yes, they sure can...:-)