Pink Dust, a Rose
Imprinted the night,
The scented sweetness, the dampness,
Passions ignite dusky flames in her sleepy eyes,
The raven locks tracing her brow,
His fingers long to displace,
To feel her tender breath,
His gaze upon the sweetheart's face,
At the crest, the waves submerging
That reckless unrest of two beating hearts,
Death shall not take away, nor shall the winters fade.
The indelible mark on her wings,
Pink dust, a Rose...
(© 05/02/2015. Gautami Phookan. All rights reserved.)
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