“She loves me not”, Said the last flower petal – That I subconsciously tore through In her sweet memory. “She loves me so”, Said the old Indian song – That I tend to hear every day these days In her sweet memory. “She loves me not”, Say my very close friends. They tell me that… Continue reading She loves me?
To me she is That gust of cold breeze On a hot summer’s day Which when combined with my sweat and toil Brings absolute pleasure She is that first sip of water Slurped up through the thirsty lips Dried out after being Dehydrated for a day or so She is that ray of dim light… Continue reading How would I describe her