Slinging scribbles

I saw you striking the pose, Or maybe you tried, With those blissful eyes, Pausing at the tiny device. The cheeks burnt for the brunt of the sun, Filled up with blisters instead of the smoothness one savours for, But unfettered you were, Least interested in what the skin did fare. The lips smeared with rashes, Trying hard to kiss one another, But you showed no sign of grudges, Perhaps being used to those nudges. The hands confident of a striking pose, That similiar to the city girl, Perhaps even similiar the dreams, O girl,can you reach the limits of  its beams? The legs stronger than them, But for the cracks edging out the toes, Like a dry passage, Reaching an undelivered message, But, O Geeta,I fell for you, For those mischievous eyes, For that parody of pose, For those blisters,so even the cracks. For i found what i never found all over here at your age, The pumping breast breathing for me in disguise, Letting me smell you,kiss you and caress you ...

how excited i was to see you,to feel you,to grasp you; as we met at a distance which failed to set us apart for ever. how happy i was to gaze at you, to smell you;the familiar scent that had engrossed me in you for years. if every word were to lose their beauty to you, then my scribe would be such a shame eyes behind those veil,smile of a distinct flair, wouldn't my kiss,if i could,be considered a sin,to tell thee a few. your lips,thin as though the petal of an elusive flower, made the most urgent touches to your words in peace, as the incandescent glow on your face mesmerized me with its perfection . but forever seemed too far as the curse of time kissed us, and so thou had to leave like a dew; no wonder i couldn't bid you a proper adieu...

As I sit down on a not so bright Tuesday morning to write something hoping no one read yet would give me a source to pour my feelings.It occurs to me that that i have grown up yet am childish in a peculiar way only i can understand.The moments which made me happy and yet have the force to trouble me now as I write them.The surprise drizzling on Tuesday morning doesn't make my nostalgia feel lazy but on the contrary awakens me from my slumber. My heart's feeling heavy as i remember the day when my school reopened.I asked my mom, "Mom,why does the school reopen at a time when such a lousy morning is tempting me to sleep."Mom just rolled her eyes in disgust to my question,making her displeasure known.I immediately got up from my bed and began to think of all the possible ways of missing the first day.i thought, "Its raining cats n dogs and am praying the providence to bestow its kindness on my feeling and make it impossible for the school bus to reach our place; ...