Dear Lover
NEERU IYER

For staying apart so long 
When I see you, I will not find your lips 
With mine, though my thirst begs to be quenched 
I'll not rush to embrace you first thing 
I'll not give you a firm, business-like handshake 
Like we haven't given each other distant orgasms 
I'll not ruffle your hair like you're a child 
Because I'd want to kill any first-time awkwardness 
With silly informality. I'll not caress your leg 
With mine, I'll not brush my fingers with yours 
Clandestinely, like I didn't mean it 
When I see you for the very first time 
For all these times I've longed to comfort you 
To take you in my arms, wishing I were with you 
I would press my burning lips to your forehead 
For all these times I've longed to, but couldn't








NEERU IYER is a poet and storyteller from India. Her work has appeared in The Legendary, The Rusty Nail, The Taj Mahal Review, Open Road Review, Inklinks, A World Rediscovered, and The Equator Line. She is now working on an untitled short story collection to be published in 2015. She currently resides in the United States with her husband.
The Adirondack Review
WINTER 2014