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
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