Nalini Priyadarshni
When you turn your back
Towards me
And pretend to be busy
I know you smile and wait
For me to run my tongue
At the back of your neck
And lacerate your heart
Hot tip of your tongue
Like the tip of a dagger
Pierces my dreams
Bringing my sword from
Its scabbard
To sharpen it
On the edge
Of your breath
Like wet muslin sari
Around the curves of a woman
Caught in downpour
I cling to your stiletto
And keep faith.
Dispositions define destinies.
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