This poem was inspired by something I saw in Coffee Day one day. In one of the tables a young couple was sitting, with the guy smoking profusely and the girl totally engulfed in the smoke, sincerely listening to the guy with lot of love in her eyes. I tried to put myself in her shoes. A short poem follows, as usual with no rules in the structure.

Little love and lot of cancer
———————————-

Curly smoke formed perfect rings
fit for my nose or
upper contours of my ears
seriously, do I love him ?

Ashes falling on the tray
like the tortured souls
of my ex timepass buddies
seriously, do I love him ?

Smoke engulfed my face
like a soft caress
or a cancerous shroud
seriously, do I love him ?

In this love-lorn world
cancer can be an angel
an angel of love
seriously, I think I love him.

– Ravi