'I want to do with you what spring does with cherry trees'.That is lovely, lush, ripe, continental
---if you know what I mean. Can you imagine an English poet being so revealing? So now,
respond to that, Aditi! How would an Indian woman poet speak of her love today? Would there
be winds as well, monsoon winds, perhaps, and would she speak of secret meetings in the forest,
of her sakhi, keeping watch during her trysts...? I don't think so, somehow. But the universe and
all its delights would be there, the lover's physical beauty and his dark eyes...
Her eyes aren't dark, Revathy.
a hazel-brown really
and when the light shines off them
somewhere between grey gold brown.
Our meetings are so secret
even the monsoon winds keep away!
mould the palm of my hand
Pouring rain now,
the line of sweat
between her thighs
trace my path