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A Season Of Longing

By Shreya Ghoshmitra


It’s not summer,

but a season of longing.

The days are long

and the nights, longer.

They get lonely,

they get darker,

while my lips itch to tease

the slightly brown mole

at the base of your neck,

and my tongue yearns

to dance with yours,

till we both taste the same.



My ears long to hear

your moans,

as your breathing hitches

and you twist and turn in bed.

My eyes want to behold

you as you fall asleep

with your hair

messily strewn

all over your forehead.

And, as I tuck them away

behind your ears,

you inch closer towards me,

holding me tighter still.

But,

you are miles apart,

a mirage that disappears

when the dreams part.

The treacherous night,

however, remains.

Long, dark and lonely.

And, the heart mourns

the feverish period

of longing.


By Shreya Ghoshmitra



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