The Meeting
N
Nosheen Irfan
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The words have a magic
Spun by nuances of language
The cadence of your voice floated to me
Across the table separating our bodies
I felt the constrained fire of your gaze
Struggling to keep its leaps in check
I nibbled at the sweetness of your intonation
Like an ant 🐜 with a chunk of sugar
Words flowed into my deep recesses
Turning into a nourishing meal
But the volubility of the handshake
Went straight to my crevices
All pulsations returned to my numb hand.
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