Dinner

by Chitra Padmanabhan

The mist is filtering into each
strand of my hair,
dancing against my face

and I'm daring the door
to my car,
daring the door to this place

of conversation

Dinner; an invitation -
Could he possibly know

that he's just entered the wild
after the desert

I'm as the honeysuckle waiting
to be plucked and pinched
in sweetness

on a cotton tongue

04-Jun-2006

More By : Chitra Padmanabhan

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