It rains sunlight
Heat dusts everywhere
She comes to me
With wet hair dripping loose
Over her white silk shirt
That has started to blush
In her skin colour
And I think
How criminal is it
Not to undress her
My lips and fingers throb like a flautist
Most of the days she comes to me
Adoring her favourite dress
Wearing it as comfortable as her skin
Fitting in as her soul inside her body
Such that one cannot know
What was trimmed for what
And I believe it is
A sin to disrobe her
I raise my hands as in prayer
And play her like a Theremin
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