The Wait

He calls me sunshine,

When he actually makes me blush like the skies that turn rouge at dusk and dawn.

Clear as a mirror his eyes reflect his flawless soul,

But the truth is that, towards all his perfections and imperfections am I drawn.

Every time the crimson tendrils of his lips touch my parched soul,

My bereft body smells of petrichor; for his lips work as the first showers of the monsoons that transform my love-eroded body into a bed of beautiful flowers made of the purest love that the mankind has ever known.

And, when he caresses me, it feels like the soothing winds from the grasslands; at me have been blown.

The warmth of his skin, like a balmy winter-noon,

It’s a smooth and cream colored blanket that wraps me up instantly and runs all over me giving me that indescribable satisfaction that usually one gets when the sun peaks through the window in the morning.

Or, like that of the runny crystal that falls and then gets absorbed into your skin when it’s raining.

Either way, the feeling is beyond amazing!

He makes me laugh like a kid who’s ticklish in the belly,

And, when it comes to his wits and sarcasm,

I can match up to him, rarely.

I like how his voice sounds like the ocean waves, gushing towards the shore.

And whenever it’s time for me to leave after we meet,

He makes this puppy-face and tries to stop me by asking “babe, are you sure?”

His arms work like a protective shield when we sleep,

Making me feel so safe and fall for him deep.

The mornings that I wake up to his face,

Liven me up!

So much so that it makes my pulse-rate race.

And, don’t ever challenge him for a game of zombies,

At that he’s an ace!

Talks in Spanish sometimes and forgets my name,

Counter him for the latter and he’ll tell me with that innocent as hell face

that I’m the one to blame.

He’s bestowed with a heart of gold,

that sees nothing but another heart and there’s a certain degree of mischief

that his eyes hold.

And, when he’s away touring countries, I eagerly wait for the stories kept in the treasure chest of his memories that he’d return and unfold.

His breath reminds me of the freshness of the brooks,

Fragrant as the blossoms and clean like the air in the hills,

His well-coiffed hair, crisp shirts and gentlemanly approach make him even more desirable.

I almost feel like a little girl falling in love, all over again with the prince-charming from the pages of one of her favourite fairytale books.

Fairytale, this seems like indeed.

And, I hope it never ends, to the universe I plead.

But unfortunately or fortunately, that what has to happen will happen.

There’s nothing in my control, I know.

And so I keep my eyes shut and go with the flow.

But, I often think to myself if this is happening for real, if he is real.

Because, never has my fate been so kind.

And, every time I look at him it makes me wonder what the fate had in mind.

He’s right now in some distant land,

Enjoying his vacation, unknown of what I feel and of all those things from saying to him I withhold.

But, someday he’ll be told and that’s when my stars will decide if I’ve to walk away from him or if it’s actually him who’ll get my heart to hold.

Until then, I shall patiently wait for him to return from the overseas,

And, wait for him to narrate his stories and show me all the pictures of the moments that his lens has managed to freeze.

In the meantime, I’ll ensure that my heart has hid all these feelings from him, in a place that no being can ever access.

Because, I don’t know if it’s right to let him know that I missed him, that I wanted to call him and tell him that I wanted to see him. I’m too scared that he might just feel that outpouring emotions like such are unnecessary and in excess.

May be it isn’t the right time for all this or may be it isn’t right at all.

So, I’ll let the time decide what’s right for me and see how things for us befall.