Against the soft linen of the bed she lies,
He enters undoing his tie.
His eyes burn like fire,
Like a glowing match thrown into a pyre.
Love radiates as powerful as the energy of the sun from his heart,
Whenever they touch , there is a spark.
Their lips find each other as it ignites
Fireworks in the rainy night.
It’s pouring outside, but it’s steaming in the room,
Eyes meet , souls are touched, burning brighter, the fire starts to fume.
As fabrics leave the body and fall on the floor,
There is no requirement- to ask or to assure.
No ring is defining this moment,
It’s just emotions in torment.
The cold air from outside brings goosebumps,
There is smell of the breathing earth and the drenched bamboo clumps.
She looks into his eyes, shining like glazed with winter dew,
The smell of coffee fills the room, every stormy day demands the brew.
No thinking if they have time to spare,
If there will be a tomorrow, or a year to calm the flare.
The curtains are drawn and they dim the light,
Leaving it to our imagination- What happened that one stormy night?
– Anahita Khurana
Picture courtesy – Google.