A Pervert Nostalgia.

Bending like a trained gymnast,

Lumps revealed.
Curving and arching.
My eyes wander on your scape,
I feel gooses and bumps.

This sparse growth
This thick bush,
Is trying to hide from me-
Big rocks scattered and a bent log, broken
Running long and thick between it.

Moist from the night's fall
Exotic smells and heightening senses.
These roads to Mussoorie.
This nostalgia.