if love finger-painted
her versatilities on the azure canvas
bland familiarities of noon sky would be colored
in its spectral moods,
twilights and dawns not just transient graffitis
expressed on skies’ complacence.
rainbows would laugh in abstract shapes
on cornflower heavens,
revealing myriad sentiments braided in love,
like lyrics of a romantic strain
splattered in variegated fonts on sky.
tempests would smear skies
with their unpredictabilities more often,
cafe noir of love’s angst being spilled in greys
on the cobblestones of stars.
while sunshine wooing
shadows with gold-dusted promises,
would be the reflection
of the flush of first love and desire,
as love indulged in painting exploits.