Sakunthala

Lemonade expanse

Slim, modern. Fresh!!

Hands quivering under the weight of the tangy wrap

Fingers press the buttons that are the color of the sky

White not blue

Rococo curls rest and listen to the mesmerizing voice of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan

The tummy rests too, after being subject to the endless jokes about it holding a baby.

A white flower peeps from behind her shoulder.

A similar one rests on the other bed with its face away,

referring to the unexciting company

Jugalbandi of the feet

Strange!

Looks dead to the world!

YES YES YES.

No disturbance

Figure performs a Baroque on the pink bed

Marylyn’s eye winks from the left breast

Lips are potted in perfection, ready to be glossed

Few words of consent take a trip

Neoclassic folds

Olympia

White folds of the Greek sculptures.

The candle, the doll, the bottle, the fan, the leaves;

in tough competition

Kingdom of The Sleeping Beauty

The thumb rests in the middle of the index finger.

All fingers stare and glance away

Gaze conscious

The hands shape a V ready to spell some nameS

tringy innumerable lines of the forehead invite attention

Cavity in the sour bed sheet is seen

The cavity leads to the corner of the bed.

The wall is white with one little dent

Butool’s masterpiece has left 10 marks of it’s descend

Wait to fetch sympathy and the memories

Tête-à-tête of the pink laced white and the dark, handsome shadow of the vast green minus blue

Love is happening

Perky, dizzy, thoughtless, idle

Love nevertheless,

with unkempt eyebrows and dark elbows

Slumber of the tiny mole beneath the gloom of the frail lashes

Deceit with the lemonade bed sheet

Affair with the ebony under it