An afternoon delight gleaming in
the corners of my eyes, made me
feel beautiful and entitled a right
to allure the slanting sun.
Tilting my head on window,
I tried to fix a picture in its frame.
A left cheek veiled by the sill,
bait for kisses.
The bus was rushing
through the city of labyrinths.
The sun and I exchanged kisses along the road.
Whispers and gropings and bad jokes.
Taste of heaven on my lips,
the scent of the wet earth on his.
His hot tongue setting fire to my nips.
My vapors surrounding him to cool.
In every corner, envious shadows intervened.
Tried to splinter and curb the touches.
But, chasing beyond the glass houses,
trees, clouds, crowds, traffic signals,
trucks and buses, plastic billboards,
the sun kept pursuing me,
determined to seize my face
in his glistening palms.
A secret lure smearing the air,
softened by eyes, welled up pining.
Cocooned in a bus,
with him hovering alone,
the sun and I
silently kept running into each other
playing a childish game
of hide and seek.
Indah Widiastuti (born 1971) West Java, Indonesia
Source: Indian Ruminations
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