The Perennial touch

Beyond the horizon
The sun was
Dragging his feet
On the trodden path,
When darkness
Overtook the evening
And its dullness as well.

I was in a hurry
To reach you
Even while the day’s dust
Had hardly settled
On my bald head.

A nervous uncertainty
Gripped me
Like the tentacles
Of a vengeful octopus
In the sea of urban humanity.

You were kind enough
To greet me at the doorstep
With a smile,
Having strong elements
Of an algebraic equation
For my flat mind.

We sat face to face
In the rented drawing room sofa
When the tired ceiling fan
Was rotating its wings
Most reluctantly.

My eyes quickly ran around:
The brass decoration on the wall
Carrying loads of appreciation
Due to a work of art,
Had an obscure shine on it
And was hanging precariously
Like a patch of snow
On a broken wall.

The room got choked
By our silence.
The scent of
Those plastic roses
In your designed vase
Was too much for me.

But in their midst
You were a picture perfect
Of quintessential beauty
An object of my desire benign.

“Can I touch you?” I said
And touched you perennially
Like the sky kissing the earth
Beyond the seas.