Sunday, November 19, 2006

Closing time at Laundry

The moment stings
like memories of your eyes
brimming with reproach.

The noise sparkles
like melting ice cubes,
wounded solidiers in a whisky glass.

Lads trade banter,
Eyeing quirky summer dresses
On clicking alabaster legs.

My heart unravels
You are such a gentle ghost
always with me, always silent.

I have memories that will last me well,
And I can recall how your face looked,
For every emotion.

I shall drive through the curving tunnel,
watching steady white ceiling lights,
Imagining blurry reds and warm ink blues...


gausri said...

Very nice. Btw, your blog spurred this new one on:

I'll be in Delhi in January. Any plans?

100hands said...

linked it, liked it.