Poetry at Sangam

SangamHouse

 










MOU by Ravisha Mall

I would rather pretend

 
to be reaching out

 
to touch a high branch,

 
blissfully ignorant

 
of your hand

 
stroking the edge of my skirt,

 
grazing the curve

 
of my supple bottom…

 
 
and You,

 
with all your age-old intellect

 
and worldly wisdom,

 
become enslaved

 
to a bout of lust,

 
which dodged reason

 
and passed through your fingers..

 
 
while I,

 
with all my nubile youth

 
and innocent visage,

 
wearily regard

 
another straying idolater,

 
paying homage to nostalgic desire,

 
and let it pass.