The FIRST.

‘the details’

do not ask me

my dear.

I did not feel

The breeze playing with my curls

Nor saw forming of komorebi on it.

I did not hear

Chaiwala filtering tea,

thak…thak…thak

just by the corner.

Nor smelt boiling of fresh milk coffee.

The barking of dogs

The tringgg…tringgg…tringgg

Of cycles passing by

Or, the screeching of wheels

Stopping by.

The knocking of heat waves

like a persistent little brother

peeking in my room.

The rolling of sweat drops

on my cleavage.

the stickiness

the saltiness

I did not feel.

Nor see.

Nor hear.

My dear,

I became

a deaf

a blind

to the world outside our periphery.

My eyes

were only touching your lips.

My hands

were busy picking up the words.

scared.

that they will scatter in the air

before reaching my ear.

My skin

rejoiced the caress

of your beautiful mind

and heart.

And,

It was first.

I lived that moment.

I was alive.