…. he felt the lady, her curly hair drenched from the light showers. Humid soft palm of her hand, contrasting against her breath. Moist with curious emotions.
Was it the vapour emanating from the rigid hot asphalt, or simply mirror to delicate surfaced compassion. She has always been bold, free flowing feminity. From somewhere beyond bound, this moment feels the wall fell down..
Her forehead was the platform to expose the rumbling he felt.. Maybe too early but never too late. All questions were never answered, the cloud made way for mild sunlight.
As his grip on her felt rough, isolated imagination erupted to life…. the road turned into her imaginary alley of bewildered lust.. condemned by the ultimate touch of those lips onto her forehead…
Wine might set her taste buds alive, but to him she was the purest form of cultured wine. Sparkling with her distinctive firm rhythm. Igniting his thoughts, she is his essence of blossoming seductiveness. As he held her, he had to defy his own self into….
Author Soovan Sharma Dookhoo