She was like a plant grown on her own, <br />Those white legs were tenderer than flowers, <br />The green eyes had been displaying, <br />Nothing ferocious or mysterious <br />Nothing scheming, <br />Nor like Helen of troy <br />Or a Cleopatra <br /> <br />She lay like ice on white canvas sheet <br />She would melt though. <br />The worshipper was still waiting for those <br />Quivering lips. <br /> <br />Strangely all this was not so intense, <br />The language was sweet and alien, <br />There was no anger in her tone, <br />No frown on her forehead. <br />Nothing was either wrong, <br /> <br />She was neither guilty, <br />The first sin has died long ago, <br />And the new sins are so sweet. <br /> <br />She woke up from her dream, <br />To the first crisp ray of the day, <br />She knew she was intact. <br /> <br />And as she left, <br />She was looking ahead in some direction, <br />There was no remorse and a small happy encounter <br />There was nothing more to the story, <br />Except that she had been drinking hard at night. <br />And she was like a bird left by the flock <br />She would then catch up, <br />In the land where fairies live.<br /><br />Sadiqullah Khan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/white-nights-iii-a-girl-named-nadia/
