O Love, in your lake

Our love of peanuts and each other.
Our bunking-class, helter-skelter love.
Our love that schemes and plots to slip past mother's watchful eye
after loving to the fullest.
Our love, the campus lovebirds everyone knows.
And over there, at the ice cream parlour, that wild love—ours too.

Our love that races to finish every last puchka 
from the vendor uncle's cart.
Our love that pretends to study harder
to throw off mother's detective mind.
Our love of endless whispered phone calls
behind locked doors, pretending to sleep early.
Our love that thickens like cream in steaming tea
at the corner shop, luxurious in the rain.

Our love of nonsense and meaningless mischief.
Our love of drowning in countless unripe emotions.
A naughty sweet sour spicy love, ours.
Yes, a teenage love that doesn't care about anything at all—ours.