Monday, November 27, 2006

on a train bound for london

They sit opposite me. Entwined. Morsels of cheesecake, saliva and love are exchanged.
She notices my stare. And refuses her lover’s next offering.
Twenty years ago it was I who wilted under an ageing dowager’s disapproval. I feel smug as the girl turns crimson. But deep down inside gurgles the sorrow of an ageing dowager.


Alpha said...

aiyoo the ripe age of 6 or 7?! the poor aged dowager!

Anonymous said...

Wow! What an impressive way to express something most of us soon-to-be-fossils types feel. Lurrrrved the post!

Anonymous said...

ah! age that stealthily elbows its way in, and sweet memories of youth..nicely captured!

Unknown said...

Naan kaarthala potta comment-a kaanum :(

To repeat myself from this morning, I was echoing alpha thoughts... ageing dowager? aiyo raama