Corridors in the asylum
Jingling silver in her ankles,
shiny bursts of her honey giggles.
Flutter of muslin,
On her skin.
He aches to hear,
what he can’t bear-
the music in her walk,
every tremble of a talk;
the moods in her mart,
every motion in his heart.
And then, as, the sun exploded,
Million hues of her vision, unfolded.
Corridors burst into flames,
stoking desires, with no names.
The silks of her passion, taking shapes,
hiding the drama, in the folds, of her drapes.
The colours of her youth, lusting to paint,
his soul bares its canvas, like a saint.
With no quiet, she breaks his humdrum,
In these corridors, in the asylum.