The mellifluous melody from your murli wafts into my chamber,
as I pen this earnest epistle to you.
My lips part into a slight smile,
ere an ennui engulfs my solitary soul.
The whipped, morose makhan yearns for your touch,
and I, unabashed, seek to lose myself,
in its pristine white luscious layers,
like an eagle into the azure yonder.
You whispered we were the unique union,
unlike the lingam and the yoni.
For our love was bound by our steadfast soul,
discernible only to the devoted.
My ashtasakhis ask me if you will return,
and I, for once, am tongue tied.
The purpose of your life holds you back,
as I wonder, what about mine?
Narayani V Manapadam