Wednesday, April 11, 2012


You came by that day
it must have been summer
I wore a silky thing that swished around
my legs, wrapped around me, waist to ankles,
cool and warm as only silk can be,
and the colours of India.
your hands came searching under it
they found what they found,
you were childishly excited
I thought what a man
I remember less clearly today
your smile, your warmth, the sounds you made,
the happiness I felt, my trust,
but not the touch, not the smell,
certainly no happiness remains.
I recall you said, as you always did
there was little time.
I think of it each time I wear
the skirt, the silk bears remnants
of you.

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