The chill of the evening air circulates almost unconsciously
to commune the characters of the atmosphere
The moon is ideally in its premature phase but bids souls alike to be matured...in time, in memory, in harmony...
Characters in company, imbibe the rise n fall of moments in glee, short smirks, few frowns as the air fills my lungs!
My knee! touches the surfaces of a cushion demanding 3 bills!
1 for the fingers tugging my hair and 2 for the fingers wallowing near...
Consequently, growing numb ...i don't care where...the moon turns
or how the air thickens the follicles of my nostrils!
I'm imbibing now the corners of my own world
Biting my lips not to spilll worry
stretching my legs to relieve tension
closing my eyes to surrender....
the tubers of anger
and bud new colours of glee!!
the salon and me...
