The Image
Door slightly ajar
Pushed far
It's the second storey
Hosting a romantic story
Furniture spartan and simple,
Not stately like her, but dull
The whirring fan, overweening
Haughtily saying, 'I can'
The heat, still unrelenting
Source, the sizzling thing
Negligibly clad
She crazy & he going mad
Raising the mercury further
Between him & her
Her statue-like pose
There his heart goes
Slightly raised knee
The yoga posture of a tree?
He hugs the trunks
With her love, punch drunk
And the image stays
All nights, all days.
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