February

It knocked on my door right when
it was due
I was done with the crumpled quilt every morning
and my toenails so blue
It didn't shock or stun or make me wonder
didn't shout out loud, didn't either try to
blend with the disturbia all year round

I wasn't longing nor waiting
nothing was missing, there wasn't any void
no free time, no empty space
It just found me one morning on the train
I had already noticed it on the platform
I confess.
Rather I had felt its presence
I must confess.

It made me smile, it made me wink
Made me wink and smile
at the same time!
chai made sense, so did lemonade
sweating days
but sleep still with sweaters on
and a brief drizzle around the 14th.
Chapped, flaky skin followed by
a pair of supple, pink lips.

It was honest
Brutally at times.
An adventure of sorts,
messy, mysterious and
fresh and real.
Its inherent confusion
confused me quite
Not confused like "errr...confused",
sweet confusion it was,
A cranberry conflict.
That makes you smile your most
natural imperfect smile,
when no one's looking.

It was so me in so many ways
Didn't promise, wasn't proper
didn't want to be rather!
Frivolous it is, will be.
Was different as they say
with days just 28.
And that's what islands it from the other eleven
.
.
.
.
March came along. Temperature rose.

So did spring make way
for melting may?

May be it did,
Oh yes it did.
I hope it did.

Did it, February?