Red is the colour of her smell (II)

Red

i move through the eden,
the roses and the gardens,
the breeze and the trinklets
of water from the fountain

chunni, a lal dupatta,
simple and sober and red,
onto my face it strikes
the force of wind in its breath,

and the fragnance-mixed of her
of her deodrent and her sweat,
gushes through my nostrils
hitting my brain instead

the red cloth sliding down and down my face,
an image revealed before my eyes,
her pale face, her reddish dress,
not to defy not to impress
her hands touching her shoulders
with her arms crossed in front,
and the shyness in her eyes asking
for nothing
nothing but the cloth
the cloth which is everything
which is everything for her,

i wished to stop for a moment
watching her beautiful eyes
her shy and afraid eyes,
but i pledged to run
and to return
the cloth to her
before the first tear
flows out of her fearful eyes.
and runs along her cheeks
her cheeks red and shy.
and make all flowers cry

so innocuous was the smile
the coy smile of relief
the streching of lips
on her blossoming face
as she draped herself with the cloth
the red cloth of faith,
and her childish gaze
that biting of the finger
as she blushes and runs away

her shyness begets my thought
her lal dupatta on my face
appeals to me a lot
something i can't learn,
somthing that can't be bought.

Red is the colour of her smell.

Lal Dupatta

chunni, a red dupatta infact,
strikes right onto my face with the force and speed the wind imarted it,

and the usual mixed fragnance of her deodrent n sweat of her armpits,

gushing through my nostrils hitting my brain with the force and speed her body imparted it,

the red cloth sliding down my face i see her image before my eyes,pale face red dress,
arms crossed in front, her hands touching her shoulders
shyness in her eyes asking for the cloth which the girl calls her everything,

i wished to stop for a moment watching her beautiful shy,afraid eyes,
but i pledged to run
to her and to return the cloth
before the first tear runs flows out of her fearful eyes.
across her red cheeks.

so innocuous is the coy smile of relief on her face as she drapes herself with the red textile, and her childish gaze as she runs away blushing . . .

her lal dupatta on my face . . . .tells me
she is not as innocent as she appears to be.

welcome to the undertaker's mortuary

Are you aware that you have finally arrived at the ultimate place , the plaza of death , but u can't , u can't come here alive , u have to die first, so please go n die , n then u r welcome to the undertaker's mortuary, to dracula's den, to the hellraiser inferno , names immaterial , have a nice time here, if u really are here.