I wrote this poem thinking about those quiet Sunday mornings when we are alone together. There is something about the way you move around our kitchen that makes my heart race. I wanted to capture that feeling when the simplest moments between us become electric.
quiet Sunday mornings
your fingers trace the rim of your cup,
steam rises between us like unspoken words,
i watch you sip slowly, deliberately,
morning light makes your skin glow;
you set the cup down with a gentle clink,
our eyes meet across the small table,
your smile tells me everything i need,
my pulse quickens like monsoon rain;
you rise and walk toward me,
hips swaying like temple bells,
your saree falls just right,
i’m already reaching for you;
our bodies fit like puzzle pieces,
your breath warm against my neck,
we move together like ocean waves,
everything else disappears completely;
afterwards we lie still and quiet,
your head rests on my chest,
the tea has gone cold but we don’t care,
this is how love tastes best.
