hands

dropping some hands,

some or those, once 

on my waist, while 

dancing on 'paper rings',

counting the shelf life 

of redness of my cheeks,

could never look into 

the eyes, falling in 

love every other second

turns my last cell shy,

in a blink of blossom,

monsoon showers on 

my skins, goodbye to 

fallen foliage, stiff battles 

in months of hazes,

some hands still on 

my waist, counting 

the lapse of my breaths,

measuring floor of 

our home, one step 

further, three steps back,

but

dropped those hands,

they're no longer 'some'

yes no longer mine.

- chetna 🌻