Would you like the key?
The imprint
My kisses will leave on your neck.
The blushes
My whispers will burn on your cheeks.
How should I mark you?
With a bindi or a cattle prod?
This burqa looks lovely on you,
Perhaps a diamond ring too
And a son for good measure.
But that's not your style, right darling?
I can tell.
Your eyes alight in deep space,
Glittering messengers of bliss,
Yours is the right idea-
An unlimited sense of freedom.
Sit with me by the window
And let me tell you about the April snow
That swirled and fell in the courtyard.
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