Nestled in the long loud smell of your kiss,
Which reminds me of the smoke guzzling chimneys of my hometown
And the yellow sunlight reflecting off our cemented yard
Is the elixir of death, destruction and surprise.
The surprise on first seeing the spiraling telephone chords
The four legged television set
The flower bedecked body of my grandmother
Lying on the drawing room floor.
In the wide hairy blades of your shoulders
As strong as the trunk of the guava tree at our ancestral home
And the choir ropes from which hung my swing
Is the warmth of embroidered quilts.
Embedded in the rustle of your stubble as I run my fingers on them
Like the tingling sound of my mother’s bangles,
And of water burning in hot mustard oil
Is the relaxed certainty of the trekker who has just reached the summit.