That’s an age-old picture-freeze

The grin of the froth

At the lukewarm caress on his soaked feet

Stars over his lips.

Leaning over his shoulder and looking into the horizon

She would be drinking with her eyes

The bantering between Sky and the Sea.

The wind and wave play pick-a-boo with the skin;

Shadows play chiaroscuro before eyes;

They trade a host of sweet nothings from their heart  

As handfuls of liquid-sand filters through their toes

 

Before the camphoric sun sank under the sea-line

All his love becomes an oblation offered at her feet…

And the exotic hues her restless sari flaunts

Kindle new brilliances in his heart  

People who cannot foresee that clusters of light

Darkness can unveil in misgivings through intimacy

Are simply lost in the dialectics of how

The sky and the sea ever really meet at all!

.

Manasa Chamarti