This is not lust (I hope).
All I am is an admirer of beauty.
Your back is a green stem bending in the wind – lean, supple – but sturdy.
I only know because I watch from behind.
I like how light shines off your hair, making it almost blue, the blue that comes after black has been surpassed.
I like how, when unattended, it assumes the shape of a peepal leaf – and a new reverence for the tree comes into being.
I only know because I watch from behind.
Shall I lift my eyes?
Shall I partake fully of that which I have stolen only glances from? Dare I take in, unashamedly, the curve of your lips and the dance in your eyes?
Will you let me?
Do you like me?
It’s been ages since I wrote poetry, and this is my first attempt at love-poetry (or whatever you call this genre). I am truly sorry if I sound like an insincere shayar – but believe me, I wrote this with a lot of heart.
