THE HAND

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Photo Courtesy: http://www.faycullen.com

She travels back from work
and her running metro —
has me with stops.

She gets down at hers;
and I start my walk.

She walks up the stairs
and I watch love on
different wheels.

She books her’s
and I press the
house bell.

She bathes in cologne
and I journey with the breeze —
through the hair.

She dresses in silks
and I pose myself in skin —
in front of the mirror.

She brings me near
and I touch those lips —
in midnight.

My phone pings.
I say ‘Hello’

The reply —
‘I just kissed my engagement ring’.

I too offer a digital kiss
as its unromantic
to wake romance.

I keep the phone silently;
I smile at my hand
sleeping…

beside the pillow.

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