That rainy evening, when your lips were exactly between mine and your eyes were refusing to open up anymore, in that divine moment of our romance I sat with my gaze on your closed eyes and saw my nose resting at the tip of yours. It was then, when I inhaled the maximum of you, I could and I still couldn’t fill my lungs enough with that fragrance, they helplessly craved for more of you.
With that inhale, I puffed my lungs with the scent of you and the rain and could not differentiate the very two of them for they were too similar and too soothing to me.
Isn’t this exactly what happens when you come out with your arms wide open to feel the scent of the very first shower of monsoon on the dry sand, you just can’t have enough of it inside you.
Since then, I come out to smell the petrichor, every monsoon but the lips still wander for that taste and the lungs still crumble to be filled with that fragrance.
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