Come.
Tangerine waves of happiness
slowly rise
from between cotton candy clouds.
They hit curves-
our smiles and searing eyes,
as we lend our fears
for the bed to hold.
And we rise.
The aroma of coffee mixed
with the crisp morning mist touches our lips,
we taste the city in our kiss.
Silence embraced
with slight whispers of cars.
People walk by, their feet crushing leaves,
we stand near the window.
We stare.
The seventh floor holds hands
with the breeze.
We discover,
but not in vain.
We pass life by in local trains.
Unaware of all the memories
that we bump into,
making our way
through time crowded on platforms,
we settle in a metal wonder
filled with sweat,
rust and hard work.
Gulmohar reach out to us.
We dance on roads full of traffic,
just to walk through the freckles
where the leaves let the gold pour through.
A minute later, we huddle in an auto,
the raindrops rush in,
they feel our love.
Raindrops,
splashes of love.
The city too demands to overflow.
The Arabian Sea sings to us its poetry,
our legs swinging in empty air.
It asks us to seek wisdom
in faces and places
of a forgotten time.
We’re living our future
and their past.
The green of the palm trees
blends in with the queen,
the necklace envelopes
us into a blanket.
Salty conversations nudging
the city awake.
Raves.
Heart-breaks, dreams.
This city never sleeps.
Fearless stars speak
to the sky-line glimmering below.
Our souls are content,
you look over with tired eyes.
Yet, our hearts still burn tangerine
and drink in gold.
You won’t be able to leave,
the city won't let you go.
Just like me.
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