Mrs. ARORA

A smiling sun admired her face through the window pane,
Slipping through the satin curtains, brushing through her mane...
She rubbed her eyes and in return pouted a pinkish yawn,
Her fists punched the air above her head, skin folding in at her toned waist.

Her eyes swollen mild and cheeks glowing in the sun,
Curly burgandy heavy locks clinging down her messed hair bun.
She walked to the window to draw back the satin drape,
And turned to the Masculine tanned, tempered torso laying across the bed!

She tightened her night robe when an attendant knocked,
Room service with tea bags, suger cubes and a kettle corked.
With a large mug of black tea, she rested against the soft pillow,
Her deep gaze smooching his wheatish skin, tugging at secrets lying locked.

Still hugging her fantacies from a mushy night, she longed to stay,
Like the stubborn mascara around her dense lashes that wouldn't wash away..
She wished to stay wrapped in the haze of her deep desires,
Her strength meant his well-bred arms; Her prayer, his husky voice; her escape, his rugged charm...

Last night when they yearned and indulged, His sweat rubbing against her bosom,
Like silk his fingers felt, caressing her far, lost senses - top to bottom...
He tasted like champagne - clear and pristine, smelt like mist - virgin and raw,
His love spreading far inside her, an intense mad rush beyond her fathom!

She still could feel him reckon into her - staunch and unnerved,
To every thrust, she'd drop a tear to the moment she was sure to preserve.
Under the thick blanket they moved in harmony, folded in ache and pleasure...
A grey dark destiny so finely crafted; in love, in lust, in the bond of 'together'!

With the last sip of black tea, she ran her fingers through his scruff, unkempt hair,
And he tossed his head onto her lap, his eyes closed, his vibe intense and dared.
She bent down, her lips meeting his eyelid; he was her best pal, mate and consort..
Like beer to a parched throat, he was her Calm in chaos, always her best mood to wear!

She stared at the clock ticking away in joy;
What anti-aging creams do to age, why cant I do to time; she wondered silly and coy!
When she knew she was to go home to another man, insensitive and tough,
Mr. Arora who fell in and out of sexual flings, cheated, plotted and ployed!

A life of disgust it is; for she has to use his name as her last,
And knows of 'Mr. Arora's' raunchy cell fone texts, sloppy pics of his present and past..
He's scheduled to arrive in an evening flight from his offcial trip to london,
While 'Life' happened between Mr.Arora's official visits - reckless, hidden and masked!



.............................. Who is right and who is wrong? The husband whose a womanizer, the wife whose in an extra-marital relationship, or the lover guy whose involved with a married woman? 


Can Humans be slotted as 'right' or 'wrong'? 'Black' or 'White'? 

Personally I think all of us make up interesting shades of 'grey' - some light ... some dark... 
The Human psyche is complex and bizarre. Accept it. Do not get busy judging people. Life happens once. Live it well! :-) :-)