it’s falling for you.
but it stays where it is,
until you follow it’s fragrance
and find it, lying in wait.
/
it’s white petals,
the orange sindoori,
silent and motionless,
calmly waiting for your eyes.
/
waiting for the moment
when you pick it up,
taking its form in,
sitting on the soft of your palm.
/
its like it grew for your
eyes and your gaze, only.
and now it’s ready to be the muse
of all your waking dreams.
/
only if you’re ready to keep
her, away from all the other
strings that hold you in
the back of your mind.
/
she demands your honesty.
she needs your time.
she deserves the dignity, grace.
and yes, your lasting gaze.
/
until then she’ll lay waiting
remembering those deep
eyes looking at the red
of her lips, as she smiled.
{blinks} 