Monsoon

You know,

The pitter-patter drops of rain

Brings out the fire in my heart,

The way you run towards me,

With an umbrella and my bag on your side,

Holding my hands and caressing my shoulders,

To protect me, to define that word of Love,

We divide our weather together,

Sometimes, running late hours from working hours,

Your hard work in cooking fritters

And lemon tea aside with a smiley curvy lip,

Fries my emotions into the batter of your doe eyes.

However, the way you forgot the umbrella seldomly,

Your wet shirt and my saree shawl

Romantically smooches the shoulders of each other,

Gives me the lightning rod of surges,

Rowing the multiple glasses of water of excitement,

How to forget that rain?

That rainy byte, we hold all in all.

Walking into the equal sunset and sunrise,

Sharing those triangles of ages together,

Plates of monsoons, balls of sun shades,

Glasses of those cloudy belch, cups of winter.

Holding a watch of platonic love,

We, walking under the bridges of time.

Lounging towards the hearth of our heart.