She is in love.
The face glows.
She smiles
for no reason.
She dialogues
with her man.
Confronts, kisses.
Romances in a dream.
Like the clouds
the love drifts
through unknown
pastures. It disappiates.
She turns a shrew Looks
daggers, speaks venom.
A sordid reflection of a
beaten mind.
Meenas Poems 