Glass of wine

 You remember the evening i was sitting   and recalling  all the bad decisions I made and how I screwed up things, when you ushered me a glass of wine with some time of felicity.

 I was gazing  at the white beautiful crescent moon with full hopes of getting better everyday. At that juncture,  you were by my side and were sharing the little things which somehow made my cavernous fears and anxiety  tractable perhaps stable. 

Next, You handed me the  glass, i noticed your greenish veins of your hands, i cannot stop visualising whether the same hand was held by someone else, the things i notice was discerned  by someone else. I tried to free my perception by peeping at the running children holding their maa's hand. They were free of thoughts, contented and jovial.  

The breeze was light and cold, my hair were frizzy and tangled but it felt beautiful, I felt complete after days of beating a dead horse. The city was secretive and scowl as if the storm will almost hit it. 

 Later, unknowingly our feets touched during our little conversation which created an aura of knowing about the strange places you went, alone, the places no one knows about. I wanted to know all of you. My head was full of questions and in  controversial state, my words were uncanny and shivering. I wasn't sure if it's me or the desire of happiness which took over my head. I couldn't figure it out, I had to drink it away with the glass of wine.