Slices of a cake, a packet of chocolates
Spoonful of custard and a bowl of kheer
A piece of pastry, a pan of pudding
A box of sweets and a cone of icecream
The realm of my happiness is in the shape of these.
But each time I tiptoe to the kitchen
to steal these for him,
my love for him becomes louder.
For once when I share these secretly with him
and see him gobbling with a smile
Then the dessert feels tastier.
Because the taste is going to linger long
and our togetherness is going to breathe longer.
These moments run so fast
Still, these memories will always last
And we will always start,
start running towards each other, a bit faster
every time we will grow older, a little more.
His twinkle, his teasing, his gossip and a gaze of him
Sweetness what I consider is filled
in his everything up to the brim.
I say he devours the flavour like a wild
And he says I look berserk while watching him devour the flavour.
Our love is not civilised. We both accept also.
It is wild like him. It is berserk like me.
But it is soothing just like dessert.
Dessert for us is the conversation between our tastebuds and our hearts.
Dessert for us is the juxtaposition of our luck and our love.
Dessert for us is the horizon that unites my earth and his sky.
Dessert for us is the most magical composition that sings our zigzag journey.
Dessert for us is the fraction in which he sits at the top as the hero, I peep from the bottom as zero and unitedly our bond results in
something that none can define…