touch

I am afraid

lest a tear may roll off your eye

like a ripened flower in autumnal wind

or you may droop like

a sunflower at the setting sun

or start screaming and weeping

at the fear of the polluting touch.

but let me touch you for once—

I shall rub the sandal-dust

soaked in the waters of ganges

all round your body and bossom.

I shall paste you with my amorous breath—

so gentle and so burning.

yes, touch me with your tip

or with your lip,

either with your eyes

or with your thighs.

touch like a bird

touches her mate wing in wing

and flies in unison.

or touch my mother’s feet

like a bride touches her mother-in-law’s

and get blessed.

it is not the tip of your tongue—

it is a most throbbing heart that communicates…

even if removed

the shadow of the touching tip lingers—

pressing softly.

you touch me

and I blush or scream

alternatively or simultaneously.

either it freezes in the flesh

as at minus degree temperature

or a shiver dances through the spine.

you charge me with something like electricity ?

yes, touch me

like my ma’s pat,

or pa’s slap,

or my beloved’s hugging.

I get so touchy when you touch me with your soothing word.

you touch

and an inferiority complex formed for centuries

falls in a moment,

an innate inhibition sheds

in a moment.

you touch and I flower

as if copper foliage sprouts from my limbs—

blooms and blossoms.

let us touch each other

let us lick each other like pets

and melt the cool icebergs

with our warmth.

no more shipwrecks,

no more casualties.

I am a most touchable soul, my love.