The Same Ol' Bench Poem by Devanshi Khetarpal

In the midst of the green,
Her bodice protruding amid the shadowed area,
She sat on the bench waiting for her amigo,
The gargantuan area unilluminated,
She could see sapphire-like eyes and snowy skin egressing out of the dark,
The amigo sat down,
They sipped the sherry in unison,
Both savoured the moment,
It being neither piquant nor saccharine,
And none uttered a word,
The stars seemed to somnambulate,
Their direction changing with every sip,
And the moment lasting an eternity,
As their tongues could remain indolent no more,
They infused dark brown and bitter chocolate,
And it was melting and permeated in their mouth,
And then their souls took a munch,
Until they glanced,
The first stared at the second's soft hands,
And the second stared at the first's tender skin,
And both left,
Smiling,
They turned back and looked at each other,
Smiling at such chumminess,
Which they both shared,
Neither laconic nor loquacious,
Dependent on visage,
And both were akin,
Thus acquiescing even the worst in the other,
The worst being unacknowledged,
There they sat,
On the same ol' bench,
The landmark of their gossip,
Which was left abandoned when the two friends weren't there.