One pleasant day,
I met a fine lady with a pink jacket on
under a peepal tree,
the shades beneath her tresses seemed much more cooler though.
Only her plump lips were pinker than the jacket she wore.
The glasses she had put on,
magnified the onyx depth of her oceanic eyes where the waves would swallow me in,
and she wouldn’t mind seeing me drown.
The red Vans she had on, just threw a little bit of tinge into her resplendent personality.
I could jump in the clouds of smoke she exhaled from the cigarette.
The faded teardrop tattoo on the side of her eyes, couldn’t reveal the woe she was in,
it felt much more reticent than the picture she portrayed.