5:15 pm, April 16
The season’s first rain. I am yet to make a wish.
Yet to kiss the rhymes on your lips. In the shadows of geodic clouds, the raw ripped blue of lightening streaks.
………………………..বৃষ্টি। তোমার। আমার।
Specks of nirvana. Like shards of ice startling my tongue. I am a bird. I am perfection. When I shut my eyes, I can feel your arms clasped sweet around my waist. I can see droplets clinging onto your lashes. There are stars in your eyes. Fiercely alive. And your heart trembles deep within my petrichor bathed chest. A million echoes. A million hues of magic.