Secret Admirer

i’m Your secret Admirer
of course You don’t know me
but i try my best to find out all i can
about You
Your birthday, Your preferences, Your pet peeves
i steal glances at You
my heart beats furiously
whenever You are near
You never notice when we pass each other
along the corridors
but i, i count the times and carefully store each moment
in my memory
how i long to tell You of my affections …

but

if i told You, i wouldn’t be your secret admirer any longer
would i?

The Little Things

We both agreed, on the way home that night in the backseat of the cab, that it has always been the Little Things – the Little Things that meant and mattered the most.
I remembered the Little Things you’d done for me:
No one – not even the salespersons – has ever put on shoes for me – no one but you;
How you had, outrageously but sweetly, when I sulked and complained, offered to buy all Mondays and remove them so Sundays will be twice as long;
I couldn’t remember a time when a hand was offered, so unconditionally and thoughtfully – unasked – when I needed it.
Only three I list here, but many more in my mind – the Little Things you do, magnified infinitely in my heart.

some things whimsical

i
it was cold – really, you’d think they thought we were all
     penguins from the artic.
a three-hour epic – how much longer in this cold?
“i'm cold” i whispered to you - “i'm cold too”
     you confessed -
but you dug into your bag and pulled out a sweatshirt
     and gave it to me -
“well use it then” i pushed it back to you -
you were so stubborn –
“you’re cold too, take it” you pushed it to me.
i don’t know about you - my world stilled
    the moment our eyes met –
your eyes gazed steadily into mine, blinked once
- (nervously?) -
a slow smile formed on your lips.
i confess now: i was nervous – caught off-guard – turned
    away from your warm gaze;
your sweatshirt laid limp in my hand, your attention
     returned to the movie -
but mine? – it was drawn, taken – probably lost for good.

ii
heavy rain-storm replete with threatening light-swords -
thunder sounded at every step:
we trudged uphill – sought shelter at the crematorium.
soaked to the bone but buoyant we laughed merrily -
i leaned in close (subtly as i could) -
you were unfailing and steadfast – retorted jovially
“hey i'm supporting you” when i argued otherwise.
the rain drained into a light drizzle – we left our erstwhile
    shelter.
on the slippery-wet grass by the drain-side, i hesitated
    to cross –
afraid i'd slip and fall;
from across the drain, you silently extended a hand –
open, reassuring, warm, ready –
“i'm supporting you” –
i took it – your fingers closed firmly around my hand –
and crossed.

iii
that deep, dark night, going to the beach –
i, tipsy and intoxicated, giddy with laughter,
lost my clogs in that dark field – climbing over
    that wooden fence
(we were trespassing; the slippers were clumsy
     - i took ’em off).
stranded on the fence, i pouted and whined
– not wanting to wet my feet on the dew-laden grass;
so you sighed, exasperated but indulgent
     – affectionately -
found my clogs amidst the grass, knelt before me, laid
    my hand upon your shoulder
– “lean on me” –
gently took my bared feet one by one
and slipped each clog on.
we made it to the beach
– i stumbled, lost footing, but you were always there,
    always ready, always steady –
and waited for a sunrise that never came –
(we were facing west!)

iv
another three-hour epic, let out late in the night
we brought our dinner to the musical fountain –
wanted to watch the light display;
but they’d turned it all off that night
     – maintenance, they said.
still we sat by the silent, unlit, dry fountain,
laughed over our unfortunate timing.
we finger-shared dinner – delicious roast chicken, licking
    at our fingers -
a bottle of water, a rosy Fuji apple, juicy-sweet.
the night was starless, overcast
– no moon, not even a sliver –
it was beautiful.

v
in the darkened cinema we were whispering
(we were supposed to be watching the movie but instead
     were discussing it)
i sighed over Melina Kanakaderes’ fine-boned Grecian
     beauty,
you liked her legs and breasts (what about mine?!)
suspense on screen: the Killer was hidden; Robert de Niro
     was about to be killed –
i covered my eyes - you laughed softly at my silliness and
     pried at my fingers.
i remained stubborn, tried to nudged you away with my elbow.
your fingers stayed, covering mine;
then you whispered in my ear “it’s over, it’s okay now
    – look”
i peeked and relaxed, fingers removed, and slouched
    on you –
joined seamlessly (it seemed) from my shoulder
     to the end of my arm with you.
was it cold in the cinema? i only felt the warmth
     of your body on mine –
but where did you end and i begin?

vi
the peak hours – hours of vehicular congestion,
     we’d thought –
but no, we stop only for pedestrians and traffic lights.
the kaleidoscope of light and shadow plays on our skin
     as we rumble through Orchard Boulevard.
my urban-road-warrior – on a steel mount in gunmetal
     shades -
i wrap my arms more tightly around you –
feel the soft undersides of your breasts on my forearms –
the assuring beats of your heart and the gentle
     fall and rise of your chest as you breathe –
i hold you close as you embrace your roaring mount.
there is warm sun rays and cool breezes –
what more can i ask for?

Bad Weather

The skies are washing their laundry out – look how dirty their laundry is! all grey and mangy like old underwear or the lint left behind in the dryer – it is good weather – perfect weather for a heartbreak, a good ol’ cry-your-heart-out; ideal, really, to embark on a Gene Kelly singin’-in-the-rain romance

Never had bad weather ever look so good.
And before you, i've never so looked forward to bad weather.

in.fatuation

            in.fatuation
how did it happen was it
in.tentional

            in.evitable
when had it started why was i not
in.formed

i'll tell you what happened
every morning your beautiful smile
every day your graceful strides

day by day week after week

i fell
            in.fatuated
with you


that
            in.itial smile
                        in.finite grace
that
                        in.toxicating
                                    in.tensity

i think i am
            in.love