Moustache

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: May 22, 2018

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Submitted: May 22, 2018

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When I curled it slightly with my fingers it resembled the angular horns of the placid cow; standing up in alacrity,
Shimmering vibrantly in the sunshine; with unruly bristles of hair protruding out rampantly from umpteenth quarters.

When I combed it scrupulously with a serrated brush; it settled to perfectly commensurate proportions,
Adhering amicably to my lips; appearing as sedate as an angel having long gone off to sleep.

When I applied exorbitant coats of sweet honey on it; it acquired profound tinges of enchanting amber,
There wafted a heavenly aroma into my nostrils; also a scores of irksome red ants crawled to relish the paradise.

When I rubbed it against the naked cheek of my beloved; it engendered a plethora of scarlet blemishes,
She blushed heavily in consternation; and there were infinite tingling sensations impregnated all over her persona.

When I refrained to trim it all along the unveiling week; it proliferated untidily in clusters,
My face now appeared like that of a passionate buffoon; and it seemed as if I had relinquished all interest in life.

When I breathed vigorously into it expending my lungs to full capacity; it wavered a little; disconcertingly perturbed by the onslaught,
Retorted back in intense indignation; prompting me to scratch my skin till it virtually bled.

When I swished at it wildly with my tongue; feverishly caressing a battalion of blades in the process; it didn't seem to mind the least,
Stuck diligently to my flesh in an amalgamated heap; sedately slept for a few hours until the saliva dried.

When I rubbed it frivolously during business meetings; it seemed to have a psychological influence in calming my frayed nerves,
Substantially eased tumultuous tension from my mind; granting me a winning edge over my adversaries.

When I let sweat dribble profusely into it; feebly attempting to resist the flow; it looked all the more handsome,
With the full light of the sun accentuating its drooping periphery; and the aftermath made me feel like a real man.

But when I tonsured it inadvertently; completely annihilating it from my silhouette; I appeared comically distorted; with a feminine disposition inevitably descending on my demeanor,
Although I considered myself as extremely lucky and blessed; as my moustache once again grew into bushy clusters rapidly a few days after shaving; and I thereby took a solemn pledge of never plucking it again.


© Copyright 2018 Nikhil Parekh. All rights reserved.

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