Some Sunday.

It’s golden hour on some Sunday,
And we’re home, humming as we bake,
To the very familiar tunes that play,
The ones we danced to, back in the day.

Your lips curve into a mischievous smile,
Growing upwards, it reaches your eyes
As we look at each other with dreamy sighs,
Gazing and reminiscing for a while,
Until one of us smears the other with flour,
The kitchen’s a mess, both counter and floor.

We’re laughing so much, we can barely stand,
So we fall to the floor, hand in hand.
Soon, we’re up and dancing about,
Still giddily giggling, singing out loud,
Waltzing slowly, our eyes locked–
Enveloped in warm vanilla, light and soft.

We’d dance into the evening,
And then pastel sunsets we’d share,
Side by side, wrapped in embrace,
No one but you and I, just us there.

I dream of this often, our forever after,
Of you and me, in love and happy,
Sharing a life together full of laughter–
Indulge me for a while, won’t you?
Tell me what you see years down the road.
Do you think about all of it, too?
Let me in and tell me your dreams,
Together, we could make them all come true.

∼© Shubhangi Srinivasan.


Featured Image by Radu Florin on Unsplash

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