On a particular kind of night,
Waves crashed across the periphery of mind
Like someone is holding a whisky glass
And cascading the drink from left to right
Making sure each corner of the glass feels the sensations- the burn and the mingle with the glass
Before it reaches the tongue and evaporates objectivity
Splashing splashing and dribbling across
Trying not to spend itself too fast
Asking you “let it happen slowly”
– rupika moitra
Flutter and Glide 