I refuse to not watch you with my teeth.
My feelings towards you could be best described
as monsoon hunger, seaside rushes.
They will take you hostage, they will
hang onto your tie as you cycle to work.
You will not regret a single moment, you will
lounge around white curtains, a shadowy porch
Littered with cat hair and cotton threads.
You will look up to the old tree
swaying to the lilt of the rain, and think about
me wrapped in your shirts, making snow angels
with the bed sheets.
It will be summery and mosquito-ey. It will be
whiplashes against the chimney, a tender
puncture in the back tyre of your drenched
Maruti. I would wander kilometres away with
practiced insouciance, waiting for you to pick me up
and carry me home. You would gnash and snarl,
and also rub my hair until they’re dry with static-
which fades in insignificance to what I will feel
for you. Welcome to the zoo, throw your trinkets
away. This is my madness, and you are the showstopper.
More poems by Anjali here.