I never saw you making it.
I don't know your recipe.
Of sunshine yellow potion that you brought to my bed every morning.
Did you let hope seep into it? For how long?
Is it how it turned golden?
You spiked it with the taste of your lips, didn't you?
I always knew from its aftertaste.
It bubbled with your liveliness, leaping in my cup happily.
I could always imagine you.
Your hands fumbling around in kitchen while I lay half-asleep in bed...
I could always imagine you,
smiling... Hey! A bit of your smile used to fall in your concoction accidentally or you used to add it as an afterthought?
Ever since you left the last cup of your potion beside our bed, I am fumbling in the kitchen every morning.
Will you send your recipe?
And while you are at it, suggest alternate ingredients too, will you?
#Afterthought : Dedicated to the people who you stumble on to and feel hopeful around. When they leave, you always try to recreate their magic to feel the hope they once stirred in you.
ReplyDeleteIt's about their secret recipe and secret ingredients.