Thursday, October 27, 2011

conversations

She moves her hands from the table

He looks into the swirls of coffee and taunts it with his myriad tricks

The subdued sun has just crept in, blurring the mighty origins of expressions

She fingers the lattice work; white and pristine

He looks at the chattering glances spread across the tapestry

The unctuous smiles, exaggerated compromises, laced noise he hears from far and wide

Forms gesturing meek myths

Whose identity they are borne?

She seeks imperfect habits

Her eyelashes lifted by surpassing sight

She examines and judges his contours

He is ruffled and distorted in the spring

The machines are right set in comforts of acceptance; didactic and mundane

Air meanders by their semblance

He has a lush of questions without any inform of brevity

He finds breakthrough in every little and simple chasm

Humdrum of fluid words are on wane

An empty rattle on streets of scant in night

There is little she explains, there is lack of selfsame

She doesn’t believe in checks and balances

She now glances back and forth

In course there is static juncture of gaze

Chances fatigued, outgrown reticence

He has a wonder wit to make bubbles burst

He taps his feet

She realizes he is bare; no tampering and fiddling

Still the words don’t meddle; she declines

Is he apt? Is he denying the stalemate?

Lackluster may find a culmination of preserve

Exchange of human bear through the door connotes the flimsy

The man next table breaks his fist into the wood and the girl illuminates with a chuckle

A forlorn woman behind him entrusting herself with a sip of wine

A fluttering handkerchief hanging from the banister

Whose notes are rendering tonight with applaud of virtue?

She has a niche in mine of his mind; own and nascent

She hides her vagaries of weak acknowledgments

She sullies her ability to love

She had maimed her methods of buying

She wishes to borrow like the moon

Plagued with rival rage;of meshed vices

Splinters of glint upon faces

The rumbling factory-churn on empty roads

Number thins around and beside

He bestows a word on her “yearn of this needn’t slope down, wish of us needn’t stray’