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

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Transparent Memory

Image result for lust paintings

In the vermilion threads of sunset rays,

 aberrant fireflies sparkled the molecules of tiniest grass,

the loops of a feather, imbrication of skin and lip

Aromas meeting raindrops,

the scent coinciding, intruding into the chaos of your numb eye

where the mind shackles see Apricity,

Eyes know the true palpitations,

Obscure stream of water

my lips that hold the shred of you

dilutes into molecules of your transparent memory,

for you are my abstruse, a diamond spark lost imagery.



 

Sacred Earth

 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.