Saturday Night

Written by: Omesh Toolsie

It’s Saturday night and I smell your hair 
    Like the sixteenth of September;
When you traced with a silent stare
    The star-studded sky to remember,
Andromeda and her plight of fear
    That death would devour her heart so tender.

I see that midnight ocean upon your eyes;
    Its thick billows break upon your lashes,
And the still beauty of this night does not disguise –  
    The fierce fervour of your heart that flashes
Through the raining lies that spell our demise
     In grey fumes of hate and ashes.

But I dare cross such tempests to slay
    Love’s foe and binding chains I’ll break,
That like Perseus with much merit may
    Save you for my own and take
Your gaze from starry dreams, and lay
    Upon your lips, a kiss.