11
It’s raining
My door is open
The smell is all around
A mixed one, of the rain-wet
Earthen flower pots in my garden
And of midnight
There is something hypnotic about rainy nights
Like the smell of wet earth
Even in the arms of your beloved
You secretly wish to be alone with the night
You want the smell, all of it.
At the end of seduction
The yellow leaves will leave the Neem tree
This night too shall die ancient
And I, like always, will be awake to witness its death.
