there she was
sitting in a cafe
in company of her poems
not like tables full of lonely faces

a smile so warm
her notebook fierce
hair ready to leap
and shadow your face
in their grace

she gifted me these words
and i almost bought her a rose

i wonder
if she’s humming a tune
and laughing the same laugh
right now

as i pen this down
thinking
should i ask her
aavengi, ja nahin?