Black Beauty
She was a black beauty ‘tis true
With swelling hips, a luscious bust
Built like a perfect Pallava statue.
To my mind, a living invocation to lust.
She was a regular in the library
But we patronized different stacks.
She browsed in ‘law’ whereas I stuck to ‘history’.
Ogling her across the library racks.
She was a police officer, I a magistrate
Different professions, which seldom go hand in hand.
She also wrote poetry, but sad to relate,
In Tamil, which I could not understand.
I soon got over my infatuation
When she left, I suffered no heartbreak.
It was a violent but fleeting passion.
But once I would gladly have broken the law for her sake
