Feminism is the radical notion that women are people said someone famous. That sums up feminism better than any long winded definitio...

Tuesday, 25 February 2014


She sat on the bench
in the waiting room,
he, next to her
holding hands.
Her peach coloured dress
 billowing up in the breeze from the fan

Scandalous looks darted their way
in the little out of the way town
far away from the bright lights of her city

She wanted to sit closer
in his lap
or with his head in hers.

She stared at him
till her heart would brim over
and pour out her eye
every once in a while.

Then she'd look away
this way or that
at others in the room
but rush back at his face.

Trying to chisel into her memory
 every detail of his presence
even as her heart filled with ache.

The bangs falling over her eye,
moved in the breeze of the fan,
he reached out,
running his fingers through them,
pushed back the wayward hair.

She looked at him,
exultant, smile,
holding on to the image,
the memory
the touch
capturing in her heart
to cherish it
a lifetime.

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