Anglicized tongues.

Picture Courtesy: Pinterest.

You enter my field of vision,
Sporting a little black dress, well fitted,
The heels clicking past the wooden floor.
The world blurs, a phase out here.
Your perfume casts a spell on me,
Your eyes, kohl lined sighting my soul now.
Not the first time this is happening.
Whipped, I phase out yet again.
You trip over your own feet,
Unable to keep the pout anymore.
Baby, how do you do this, every single time?
I stare at you, mesmerized,
Whirlpooled in your honey brown eyes.
You mumble a few words I fail to decipher.
And then you begin pedaling a rant.
My anglicized tongue falls like a wounded soldier forth your slurred words.
Your sobriety of thoughts getting me drunk this time,
I stutter, I stammer, while you speak your mind.
So unfettered and untethered, time stands still.
Careful with my words, I trudge like a camel with water.
It’s bubbling, it’s stirring a mess with my emotions.
And I phase out, this time, surprised at what I say.
Strangely enough, it is I who utters the three words,
I love you, I say and you pass out in my arms.
I get a mumble back and I already know the answer,
As I carry you safe to our home.