The August Drive

The bike drive wasn’t the same.
On a lane with a different name.

The bustling streets of Thirumangalam,
Brought dreamy thoughts of the Thirumanam

Her face covered with a black scarf,
Barely visible, just eyes poignant and razor sharp.

Her black eyes, ask-like, dipped in kohl,
My eyes yearned to meet hers, I couldn’t control.
Breath hitched at her contact, I couldn’t hold,

Waving her hands at me, her blink looked like a wink,
That moment, was when my heart wanted to sink.

Deep into her soul,
As I imagined her mole.

Is it real or a figment of imagination?
The sandalwood fragrance from her nape, brought my heart back to motion,

Can minutes turn to seconds?
Can a person defy the law of science?

I chuckled in affirmation,
As I hugged her in confirmation.


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Cover Photo by Lina Trochez on Unsplash

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