thin waistline and a fat stack of memories

it began on the terrace

with lousy poetry, cold tea, and playful eyes

you unravelled a mystery

to my utter surprise

i am not sure how it started

it sure ended on that auburn paisley sheet

in-between sweet moaning

i felt complete

i dressed up in front of you later

dabbed kohl, tied my hair into a messy bun

draped that cotton saree

playfully making the pleats one-by-one

then you asked graciously

if you could tuck those pleats in

i felt knots and butterflies come alive

the moment your fingers touched my skin

you stood behind as i adjusted the pallu

it was a bout of nervousness for me

to make a lady uncomfortable with silence

was your idiosyncrasy

a million moments i've lived since

moving my fingers on that paisley print

like my life, that sheet, and cotton saree

are immortally linked

the mystery you unravelled

sometime in april noon

a dry-dead day can lit up

without a shower or monsoon

draping saree is an art, they say

undraping too is an art

only a special someone can touch your skin

and leave an indelible impression on your heart

image source - here