poetry

Image

The envelope's blue fold

like a catharsis of us

entrapped like a canopy,

or a memory.

The rusty smell of Vodka

The lying knocks,

Hush, this moment

a fragment of the moon.

I sink into your lips

and memorize your words—

Propitiating, proliferating

your eyes resemble best with

my heart. Maundering tiny tales.
©MVS

poetry

Breathless

 

Image result for romance picture vintage

These lips entice your arms like an inebriated night

Meteors shaking, beneath the liquid earth

Inch by inch I am a white cloth,

coveting, hiding under the layers of painted gush

An arrow of light-bulbs, crisp and soft

With a piquant throbbing bowl of  salt,

the algae smooth and honey dripping,

chuckles held in the moisture of these fists

and my breasts lost, sounding like pepper.

You whisper my name again in the numb air

And I cast a spell on your desiccated tongue.

P.S To my love

©MVS


 

poetry

As I need You

Your collarbone clicks stars

poultice on my lips,

Beneath your tongue, I sit and sing

with wavelengths sticking my iris,

my newly born legs, bosom divine

weeds grow in this prismatic air,

 between my fingers and your coiled words.

Temperatures romance and seductions occur.

In the warmth and futility,

hallucinations weave your face on my pillow

I lick it and suck it. 

Colours vibrant and molten

I lick it and suck it, 

your face is my religion.

©MVS

poetry

Methods and Ways


Let me sew your linings of solace
onto my blank, numb fingers
like the gasp of a saviour dreaming
Orange, Red Vibrancy
And I pour you into my wine glass
magenta and red my blood splashes
My mascara, discerning and colliding
and I dance and dance

I think of rainbows and you
where my world floats
like the catharsis of words
And I am Divine and Pious
With Intersperse threads of lust
I fill the hollows of my palm and ankle
I sink into your fulgent walls of ambrosia
The softness I eat and gulp.
This is how I worship you.


®MVS

poetry

Vintage Love

Pinterest

“Perhaps when you will leave, you will take something of mine: chestnuts, roses or a surety of roots or boats that I wanted with you, comrade”— Pablo Neruda

I doubt the incubation of turgescent moment
where my hands might be swollen
and your tongue all opaque,
I do not wish a lush firmament
or kisses of holy verses,
For I crave is the skin and pores
and countless breaths you take
like torrential piquant roses and wine
You rotate into my feverish mollusc body
Like an Equinox, you conquer my susceptible shadow
Walnuts cracking piece by piece,
the susurration sound to be heard
mapping your virile chest and hands
Too many secrets of love to be unveiled tonight
like letters, vintage photographs, Pure breaths.
I crack bit by bit into your wonderous mouth
Detonating into million and million pieces of delicate memory,
And each time, you hear me.

©My Valiant Soul


poetry

Skins Of Skins

Image result for lust art
image credits- Gottfried Berlin

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.

©My Valiant Soul


poetry

Together

Image result for romance art

This orange leaf splinters further,

reflecting your beautiful naked skin to me.

In the pool of stars, I feel the icicles of chills

Spreading onto your neck, spreading onto your lips.

I count breaths between your lips and my moist temple-like mouth

Engulfing charisma of your liquid veins, I stand still to weave a knot of adoration,

from the stars of your Lilly- thighs to my oblivion body.

©My Valiant Soul


poetry

Concoction of Flavours

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.

-My Valiant Soul

poetry

That September

“I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair”— Pablo Neruda

Image result for desire painting

In the sleepless nights of thunder and laughter,
I craved the shape of your mouth,
where the butterflies built a rainbow
soaking in the solemn orange skies.
Tranquility glitters as my reflection
and my anklets clamour my tears.
Oh, the moon weeps, upon the last September
where I was here and you still a dream.

©My Valiant Soul