A Man, a women and passion

A Man, a women and passion

 

 

“I do not know what this song means”

She says, a careful smile plays on her lips.

“Ah, it is about a man, a woman and passion”

He answers, “the best songs usually are”

He takes her hand into his own,

Making her small, tiny world – his own.

 

“Dance with me!” his voice dares

She laughs – nervously – they smoothly slide

No sound, but for the careful shuffle of feet

           Suddenly – she pulls herself away!

The snow outside settles, her mind weeps in turmoil

           “And what is this about?” she whispers,

letting her gaze meet the mystery in his eyes.

“A man, a woman and passion”

Comes a low, warm reply.

“The best stories usually are.”

 

 

                                                        Ananya

Empty Place

Empty Place

 

           I do not know what it is that we do here

You, Me and this fortuitous place.

It is too bright, too cold

Too long ago, the grey memories refuse to grow old.

 

That I do not want you in my life –

I’ll admit with all surety,

But this night, this place –

There are too many variables, too many people

Too long ago, the gnawing emptiness opens old doors.

 

Resigned, I let my sigh call your name

But you, are too far away.

 

                                                                             Ananya

Departing Moment

Departing Moment

 

“Where are you going?”, he asks

Taking a long drag off his time-worn cigar

A long drag off his time-worn self.

 

Biting my tongue and placing my

Perplexed dispositions all too clearly,

My lips form the words – “I do not know.”

 

His eyes are uncharacteristically lucid,

His face – uncharacteristically keen.

“Then, does it really matter?”

And the winds below the moment away.

                                                                                      Ananya