Moments of silences

I tip-toe wearing red nail paint
and silver toe-rings
my face dyed in butterfly wings
that flutter like monsoon rain drip.

The frangipani in the corner
of your garden
trembles restlessly
kissed by the grey cloud
that the leaves gather
and sprinkle on my eyelids.

Tread softly and run your
finger tips like feathers in my hair
for life is lived in
moments of silences
breathed in whispers
that linger in the corners
of my rain-drenched heart beat.

And we’ll wait for the
first flush of dawn
to lift the mist of night’s mystery.

-by Rita Putatunda