Saturday, May 4, 2013


The plate that served the "tikkis" broke into 
exactly three pieces,
the scotch glass cracked suddenly,
was the heat too much to bear,
our lips touched only to part
as if we were shaken by an earthquake,
the salt like taste of your lips
stayed left a mark
as your hands strolled along the curves 
and stopped as our eyes met.

The cloudy sky rumbled,
a thunder was heard somewhere,
but it didn't rain
as we stood motionless for a while
and then moved away
with a weak smile.

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