What spring does with cherry trees
 
Apologies to Neruda
 
 
‘I want to do with you what spring does with cherry trees’…That is lovely, lush, ripe, continental ---if you know what I mean. Can you imagine an English poet being so revealing? So now, respond to that, Aditi! How would an Indian woman poet speak of her love today? Would there be winds as well, monsoon winds, perhaps, and would she speak of secret meetings in the forest, of her sakhi, keeping watch during her trysts? I don't think so, somehow. But the universe and all its delights would be there, the lover's physical beauty and his dark eyes...  
Revathy
 
 
Her eyes aren’t dark, Revathy.
a hazel-brown  really
and when the light shines off them 
somewhere      between            grey        gold            brown     -
our meetings are so secret 
even the monsoon winds keep away!
 
 
Revathy,
my beloved’s 
conchshaped                    breasts                             
mould          the palm of my hand
 
 
Pouring rain now
the line of sweat  
between   her thighs 
 
 
I 
trace my path 

blindfolded