There were holidays in the bend of your lips

There were holidays in the bend of your lips
Shivering in the shimmer of your lipstick mark
You left on the coffee mug
standing solemn on the kitchen sink
There were holidays in the kohl of your laughing eyes
Flowering the debris of love and despair
Spiralling into the deliberate erotic of bound and vacillating
There were holidays in your arms
Which drew me to journeys of gardens and terraces
The analogy of carnations and blue sky
There were holidays in the touch of your fingers along the artefact
I cherished
They strolled from your fingers,crossed the origin
and met the feasible arterial of aesthetics
My holidays travel with you like day
And devour you like night
I have been on this holiday ever since we met
Ever since you came close
Ever since you touched
Ever since you hung on the ambarella tree outside
With moonlight and dark hair


On this lazy Saturday afternoon
I am sitting with my coveted pickle jar from mum's pantry
she left for days,
when I don't feel like cooking and there is only bread.
These remind me of holidays of origin and ripeness
These remind me of moist you and slithering jellyfish
There were holidays in the sadness of your eyes
You turn away and all the holidays leave me, go out of my life.

Edited by Dr Ampat Koshy