4

i know this old woman
who
talks loudly about
the benefits of yoga
and
her hatred for class four

and that lady
who
can talk endlessly about
the enchantress of florence
and
quotes milton a little too effortlessly

and a daughter
who
spent endless years worrying about
the legacy of her father
and
if she could immortalise it somehow

and the mother
who
is always complaining about
her elder son who is no good
and
how he will leave her one day

*

but when im lucky i meet this girl
who
talks about
life with a giggle in her smile
and
why she prefers beedis to cigarettes
---

Happy Birthday, Mom.

I may be far away, but I've got a glass of champagne in my hand and a smile on my face.

3

There was a crowd. And electronic music.
The girls were stunning, but her smile.

Her smile.

There was intent. And stars in the sky.
The whisky was potent, but her eyes.

Her eyes.

There was depth. And a pool to jump into.
The dress was brave, but her innocence.

Her innocence.

There was a man. And a worthy one at that.
The absence of chance, but hope.

Hope.

There was a sign. And an idea that wanted to try.
The desire to love again, but fear.

Fear.

Rantravereflect added:

There was a connection. And a magic potion that emptied itself into us.
The frenzied bloodiness gushing, but her misplaced sanity.

Sanity.

There was the unison. And fire and fiery passion.
The love was impreganble, but so was her betrayal.

Betrayal.

There used to be another man. And maybe he was worthier than me.
The earth shook a little, but her stablity.

Stability.

There was a wedding. And beautiful bridesmaids and confetti.
The look of nervousness, but her faith.

Faith.