Monday Evening With You

I open the books, turn around the pages Just to find you in it, to find ‘us' in it Hidden messages and imaginations of What you might do to me What I might do to you The touch of your hands on mine Intertwining my fingers around yours And suddenly the hopeless Monday might start making sense. Imagining your silly smile when I compliment you That how cute you look with the messy hair And wearing that blue t-shirt. Imagining you coming closer to my neck Sliding my hair and suddenly asking me ‘which perfume are you wearing?’ Damn! Damn the imaginations Cuz whenever I see a guy holding a guitar I immediately think of you Knowing that it can’t be you, You’re not here. Many evenings I sit near my glass window I struggle just to have a glimpse of the moon To capture it and share it with you. The shade over it doesn’t always allow me to do so Dangling upon my schedule and time I still like to share this moon with you Binding you with a spectrum of lights Asking you to save this moon forever in your gallery. See now it’s not the moon in the sky anymore, it’s our moon Our reflection on the sky. All these imaginations suspended inside me And I know it’s not only me Who is tantalizing herself, you’re equally partaking In these enigmatic evenings of mumbling imaginations. ~Madhurima Ghosh