Still Listening

You play me with your words.

With murky sentiments and darker intentions

you purr seductively

in that husky, unreal voice of yours

and I feel your breath on my neck

though you’re at the far end of a late late call.

You chat for the length of a cigarette,

telling me about the trivia

that made up your day –

the noodles you ate and the colleague you hate,

while I slip into a hungry silence

held up with nods and sighs

and sounds that can’t be spelt,

till all of me is one large empty ear

waiting unabashedly for what I really,

really want you to say.



But you never do.

And I’m still listening…

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Compulsive proof reader and multi-tasker. Incapable of giving straight answers to most questions. Frequently awestruck by the awesomeness of the universe. Lover of seafood, wine, Jack Daniels and kadak chai. Urban gypsy. Sucker for inspired writing. Professional baby-sitter. Wannabe poet. Part-time dreamer. Full-time seeker of the ultimate truth.

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