Pull me closer to your diamond skin
a place that eats all my molested scars,
in the walls of books and poetry
you shall be my muse, the other half.
of my upcoming poetic line, upcoming splinters of ice,
we make love castles,amidst the dirt hanging like spider web,
Precise knots of commitment are the strongest.
Skin:a reverie of splashing memory,
Something that your lips eat daily.
Turn by turn, inch by inch
we mark each other’s soul
creating geometry, defeating geography.
My collarbone is star dust today,
Ebullient scents from your whisky eyes
expand my artless poetry,
like the writings scribbled onto my library walls,
pink, orange, brown.
Latitude of your strawberry eye in congruence with my winter skin
where a pool of weeds evaporate sinking into the outlandish touch,
A loop of anomalous cogent thread arise in the windowpane of your heart,
I see the Earth, the moon and my teeth cracking your Universe,
For I reside in your skins of skins.
Quixotic eyes that spill the poetic halcyon of star-dust,
like the friction of two naked bodies romancing on the naked moon,
I see you evolving, a robust wild bittersweet flower,
I see your palpable heart, and my lips breathing Skins of Skins.
In the melancholic time,
when the dark howl craws
In the harrowing soils mask,
where the river flow is backwards
I bask in the sunshine,
towards the bridge of memories.
my skin knits
I am sun-kissed today,
like a morsel of apple-pie
sulking on my white bare skin
I am a memory today.
where the sweet honey clings my tongue
pouring my holiness into your laps
I am a pattern to be formed, embellished
I am aliferous today, this moment.
In the encapsulating shimmers of prodigious beautiful skins,
I am a traveller to time zone of your dewy skin
As the geometrical curves make my heart merry,
I count the ways of savouring your skin bites
like fine red sharp thread, threads of love
In the windowpane, I venerate you as my sun,
the Usher of sparkling twilight disguised
as your particle.
Half dawn, half dusk,
your skin is a beautiful myth.
The blithe seaside waves inferior to your footsteps
conjure my eyelids with your memories,
And I feel pepper, salt and sugar.
Your honeysuckle orchid calves
pay reverence to my naked skin.
I breathe the last night fallen star,
scaring myself like your texture
And so I am a basket of infinite part of you.
I am the other you.
Like a distinctive shine, my heart palpitates for your convex smile,
the dewy lips romancing with a shooting star,
the prodigious forest inside my body receives a gust of fragrance,
your beatific touch that glitters my waistline, oh, my man!
Between lips and parched lips, resides a mystical cacophony
yarning a crown of butterflies to decorate my atlas of body
to receive the markings that spread through my milky breast
where the darkness vanishes in the monotony of time,
I smell my bed sheet, the spots you rocked me,
clinging on the jasmine night,
that gave an ephemeral shake, a tremor to our naked souls.
A thunder I produced, inside my poppy finger-nails
where I captured your aroma,
as a pearl of delight: my necklace
I want your immortal touch inside the folds of my skin,
sucking my tongue
residing in the interiors of my temple shaped body,
I have known moist cities and pale humans
putting a slumber to my desire,
And snickering to my crooked jawline
where the goddess even hides in cold evenings.
I have seen sanity, insanity.
I have been tattooed with thorns of roses
wrapped around my neck, suffocating, killing, devastating.
And here I survive in your crisp prism blurry image
turning around the previous thorns as a cultivated seed.
My wax finger slithers across your extolling caricature
In the Elan black eyes you carry, sun-baked secrets.
Like the winter chills and pepper on thighs cascading
in the solitaire eyes of the mountain, I see your lips
Your smooth, divine lips uttering the catastrophic formulation
Like obeisance of your footsteps in the haze of sultry moisture.
I see you drinking nectar from my sweet neck,
Giving me a basket of rainbows embellished in my navel.
And, with your lips and my dreams,
there is a heavenly comet, a magic potion,
Sunkissed dreamcatchers, succulent winsome bodies.
Turquoise skin flowing beneath the
reflection of the concave mirror,
speaking the language of mammoth desires,
forming marks on the human soul.
The surreptitious lustre blithe the chilly touch
corroding the sides and there I stand
inhaling the crisp blue air,
decoding, unfolding life’s intense
burrows, choking into blue whispers,
I slap my tongue, tapping, brushing.
Pushing my parched mouth to vomit
black ashes and colliding into
this blue velvet dress,
that soaks the vapid apprehensions,
nurturing it to be a cherry-tree
masked as the new light, a feathers’ delight.
Wheels of fortune
like sour grapes, apple
tumbling my spirits.
Spirits of fire, unflinching
A ball of reveries, undiscovered.
Musty halcyon, a penumbra of elixir.
A soft cushion, a soothing balm.
The nectar of hubris dreams, drooling
in the breeze, a nimbus of dark clouds,
an array of shooting stars,
Wheels of Fortune
play me, trick me, devour me.
desiccate my veins, coconut shreds.
For if I rise, the earth shall tremor
The sea, scorching Sempiternal my initials
The moon bending down, as my furtive solace.
Fumes of twilight shout your name
adorned in gracious pastel fields of paddy
Aroma and lanterns of your touch
conjure the magic in this cool breeze
making my inner shades all yours,
My teeth clasping your skin,
like the raindrops romancing with the earth.
Inexplicable, beddable for you.