golden sandals like marigolds are left behind
in an uppity world
&chipped nail-print on prim toes—
his pink kerchief is smudged
like the season of no return.
a lover looks for lice on the long tresses of the beloved,
fingers nimble,
but calm on a rotten evening.
wrapped together in rapture, the wet ground is slippery
like the tongue that is on its way home.
the screen light turns sharper than the old lamp
where mosquitoes love
and die in a daze.
.
© Anmol HA
HA's Place 