Vinita Agrawal
New Delhi, India
The scent of wet earth
after an amorous monsoon shower clambers up the walls of my heart like a snake
biting into my poise
the blue poison of desire spreads
some memories wrapped
in grey sheets of thick old rain are still strangely warm
like a hearth fire not fully extinguished
or like hot lava fingers scratching a cool earth from beneath
some longings grow younger as we age love is one of them
these rains act like a rake on the senses heaping autumn colored resolves
in to the far corner of life’s garden
they water even the weeds, dimpling them singling me out
to wither bit by bit with every monsoon.