under the monsoon sun

while soaking up the smell of all books i bought last winter,

i mused on the question of scrolling trying to replace the sound of flipping pages.
biting on bitter cocoa easy on the pocketbook,
on days of introspection swiveling in my chair,
dawns reflections edified me on laws of reality,
making me fall into reveries on the fluttering grass.

i despise roses,
only to effortlessly discover their foxily alluring thorns,
beguiling a part of me into loving them.
coming to terms with the likelihood of not wanting our lives interwoven.
having this penchant for clicking pictures,
on every level in a parallel universe,
I'd unquestionably don the finest coat of an impassioned docent.

these pangs and aches irk me,
until the pain disperses amid the monsoon breeze,
like mist.
I smile reckoning it isn't momentous in the grand scheme of articles.
granting time for those massive psychological scars to heal,
piecing the jigsaw together.
                                              - isha