Let Me Tell You…

A poem

This a photo of the writer taken by herself

pitter-patter rain was showering the dust off the plants

little lilies were breathing after a long day’s heat stress.

cross-legged — not a lady like —

I am thinking to say something while inhaling the petrichor,

and you intrude.

I wonder how did you ask thus.

I do not have many words to splurge on my yearning.

…

yet let me tell you…

sometimes I want to run to you

sit beside and hold your hand only.

Hush! do not piss me off!

at best I can ask for you to take my name on the lease

for your evening

to lean on your shoulder.

do not remind me the lease was over an evening only.

let it be midnight.

let me fall on your coffer

and listen to the monsoon frogs and forget me not.