Our Fingers Entangled.

Eight fingers bunched together,
Lost on the dining table,
Free from the shackles of propriety,
and drunk into the pleasures of the unexplored.

The two thumbs, with some semblance of sanity,
felt the fingers and thats when they realize -
They are two different individuals and yet,
intertwined into one.

No talk on Gtalk.

Wearing your grey coloured cloak of invisibility,
I am sure,
You must have seen me bearing a green torch.

But you,
Coldheartedly immersed yourself into your books of accountancy
and left me in the company of two dimensional people of tele-serials.