Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Beneath the evening sky

You touched the lines on my palm
Tracing my fate with your fingertips
And the sun like a migrant oriole disappeared
Leaving a crimson trail above the shimmering waves
The mist dripped through the twigs...
But we gathered the twilight in our arms.

Photo Courtesy- A friend.
Location -Goa


Last night You wrote your sonnets in  Braille: the commas, parenthesis,  Ellipses... engraved perfectly on my skin- and I  w...