Holi

Hands smeared with colour

I stood long at your doorstep

To colour your countenance

With a bit of myself

At last you appeared in the doorway

Wearing a worried look

Many unknown hands reached you

Before I could raise mine

A purple face you raised

To look at me through untouched eyes

I found your cheek and neck

And brushed your tender bosom.

A warmth spread through my being

And flowed through outstretched hands

My colour on your face and body

Said more than I ever had.