with our bodies colliding
this night sings a song of petunia,
a soft spring blooming behind our feet.
A velvet yawn of a quiet afternoon.
The night is a tiny flower
thumping against the sun-kissed breaths
a hum of summer,
a hum of winter.
The mouth dipped in the greasy elbows,
a pathway to the flowering petals.
Silver droplets of water,
the body shrinks like a caterpillar now,
sparkles of the rain,
Too many screams now,
too many abstract bodily postures.
This night delivers a tangled knot of whispers of leaves,
like salt, the whispers rubbing our elbows, quietly.
A season of moist talks.
Buy My collection of poems “Crimson Skins ” here.