I was on a bus
To be on a plane
From Bagdogra to New Delhi.
I hadn’t scribbled
A note in eternity.
I only had
Your picture with me.
On the way the streets
Were densely shaped like
Heavy waterfall of your hair
Falling back loose.
I was taken aback
When I breathed
The close fragrance of your hair;
Like once in shared solitude
With you and
We were only able to hear
Each other’s breath and
The red moon howled.
Today, your lips on the photograph
Speak to me of a sprouting dandelion
On the cracks of
The lovers’ park stone bench.
An image of a flying love birds
Leave their shutters
In fluttering echo,
Naked like a green lake.
My sleeping desires
Wake like the Himalayan sunshine.
I want to take a U-turn
Kiss you forever
Like when we learned to kiss first.
The aesthetics on a maple leaf
Of a temporary dew
Has left its imprint
On your face
Holy like Sindoor1
© Sushant Thapa
Biratnagar-13, Nepal
Picture Nick Victor
1. Sindoor (Sanskrit: ???????, IAST: sind?ra) or sindura[1] is a traditional vermilion red or orange-red cosmetic powder from the Indian subcontinent, usually worn by married women along the part of their hairline.[2] In Hindu communities, the sindoor is a visual marker of marital status of a woman and ceasing to wear it usually implies widowhood
.