Thursday, May 3, 2012

Texture of Doubt


The floor rug with yellow, cream and white.
Shifting from a white washed room,
Into another white washed room in a month.
The stone studded loose silver ring on my finger.
The goodbye kiss that my neighbor's wife gave him, 
As I was locking my own apartment.
The letters that repeated the word love 33 times,
In my third semester in college.
Taking a longer route to reach home for my fiancés birthday.
Grandfather's rocking arm chair.
A shrug over a spaghetti top.
The color grey.
Chocolate diet shake.
Duplicate keys to my boss's house.
(- 3) in both eyes.
Putting red lipstick in the lady's loo at 9.30pm IST.
Unstable equilibrium.
Dry Ice.
Sublimation.
Invisible on google chat.
Baked french fries.
Concentrated orange squash.
Infection.
Cancellation.