The wrinkles of her bed sheet,
matching the wrinkles of her thoughts.
The bloomy wrinkles had shown the urge,
wanting to spread more and more with comfort.
He smoothed out the wrinkles from his shirt,
but ignored the moment of love.
The bed sheet witnessed either the action of trust
or the worry of thrust.
She firmly denied all the reflections of the thoughts,
the wrinkles were part of her disturbed sleep.
Copyright Bhavya Prabhakar