Hardik Vaidya (26 Dec 1969, yet to kick the bucket. / Mahuva, Gujarat, India.)
When I left you alone
On that afternoon bus
What did you carry?
My eternal lust?
I never left you.
The bus left.
You remained in me,
Alive and fresh.
I made love,
I kissed you a billion times,
Never did I feel I was less to sublime.
I wait at that stand, I stop at that bus,
I look for you, sitting with eyes moist and hair blush,
I look for your waist, I hunt for your gaze,
I crave for your nights, just as I craved for your space.
Comments about this poem (Bus stop by Hardik Vaidya )
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