The Five.2

The aftertaste of a German dark chocolate, lingering

The suppleness of a pillow, again and again, crushed

Intoxicating smoke filling space between glasses, suffocating

A single rose leaf, shining with growing pallor, scattered

Immersed in every sigh, an elegy; fade out.

The Five.1

The touch of hardened skin on one’s fingertips

The whiff of first few raindrops on dry earth

A crying baby on a flight slowly put to sleep

A glass of bubbly champagne savoured in a restaurant

The grating sound of a gramophone needle stuck

to put pen to paper

and to find the time, or a pen or a paper