Between the thumb and the forefinger
where I’m counting and mapping your freckles
as my fingers slide
over your curves
and etches
a map of my universe
where
my soul
my love
my passion
finds solace,
And in every nook and corner of
your soul
I find shelter for my
darkness to hide
and dissolve in yours,
and they conjure up a new shade of grey
a perfect concoction of our
joys and sorrows,
a sip of which
leaves us
dangling between the
dreams and reality
a new dream of tomorrows,
a feeling of ecstasy,
a feeling of completeness,
which makes us whole
you and me
an epitome of venus,
That magical touch which puts
the moonlight to shame
erase and clears away
every shred of pain,
Between the thumb
and the forefinger is where, my love!
my whole world remains.
–Megha
The Reluctant Poet 