Behind the Scene

This poem is for my wife. We were 21 and 22. It rushed through my mind when we were under the bamboo grove for the first time kissing. I remember the way her hair brushed against my cheek, the pulse of her breath mingling with mine — it was as though the whole world had narrowed to that single, trembling instant. Beneath the swaying bamboo, I felt something eternal — and I wrote it later the same evening.
I can still hear the soft murmur of the grove, still feel the quiet eternity that passed between us, like a secret only the wind could understand. Cheers!!

I remember,

The lights were travelling through

And through bamboo,

Ah! Leaving sun-streaks on your face.

"I could be perverted," I said.

You were silent like those bamboos.

Standing and being silent,

Got the permission to slide into your heart

But,

I didn't know

My perverseness was different from yours.

You,

Came and gone

Like scudded clouds, far into the sky.

Leaving beautiful trails of memories.

Like in the stories, parted with incomplete denouement,

Indeed.

Would you come to sit with me,

Under the lilac. 

Under the bamboos!

If I may insist, darling.

Do you remember?

How we were parenthetically close

To one another,

We used to be quiet for a good minute

And during those implacable moments,

I'd pray: let this tranquility last forever.

Love of Verbal fencing

Fear of throes

But we didn't die that day.