Can we be together, for the weekend ?
I hate waking up alone on a Sunday morning.
Its a vacation, that day. I want to do it my way.
I want to wake up, in your strong arms. I want to watch you sleep and sigh, turn around, while I sneak out.
I know I will drown myself in the sweetness of a long bath, I tip-toe out of the room, I leave wet,sloppy trails.
I tinker in the kitchen, a gentle din of metal and steel.
I make you your break-fast of the strongest tea, and the healthiest egg.
I make you the fluffy, honey pancakes with blueberry jam smeared lustily on them.
I wake your Sunday face of restful smiles, with the most wettest kis
We wear white, I tie a little pink bow.
We cushion up on that clumsy,cozy sofa. Trough out the day. Hearts beating one way.
From the strong yellow brew of the morning, to the crepuscular rays of twilight.
Till it eclipses to the mellowness of the night. Black as ebony, warm as honey.
Teasing, exploring, loving.
Loving.
So can, we be together, for just this weekend?
I hate having to sleep drunk on a Saturday night.
I hate having to wake up, a solitary figure, still flushed from her scary dreams.
I hate having to tread around, for the gentle slap of my slippers on the floor, makes such a thundering sound!
Like as if, loneliness has an indelicate sound to it. Almost a noise.
Like reminding me, that you are so far away.
I wont have your fingers gently entwined with me, for a long long time, till that one fateful day.
No, this is not a sad song.
No, this is not, a weeping myna warble.
Its just my want, and my wish.
