Friday, September 9, 2011

Life in smoke

Where can she smell the smell ?
All over you, he chimes in.
Can she smell you on me?
You are all over me.
 Is it what you do to me?
Is it what i do to you?
Does it manifest on my face too,
in the form of colour?
Is it the smell of Death? 
The Death in the everyday?
The Death of everyday? 
It sticks to me;
like you.
A different scent,
selling dreams to the world.
It may mask you,
but not the smell of death,
that i live with everyday. 


The stillness of that memory,
The stillness of that moment
 I wrap it around myself
and let go
The hop and skip in steps
 of my heart
The warmth of your lips against mine,
And then not.
And the ensuing longing.
The bated breath-
As heavy as it gets.
Shatters like a glass-
The stillness.
Your moist breath on my face.
The Anticipation.
The growing proximity.
The expectation.
More Moisture, less silence.
The inhibition dies somewhere in the corner.
I Lean in
And  kiss.