The touch.

Change my atoms of body.
make a sin out of this floating skin.
A lotus. Inhale my vapours like a sun kissed windowsill.

A slice of moon sits on my neck watching your toes circling my platonic waist.
a waist that hold your liquids, your solids.

A moment of sigh and resemblance.
Make me your thread of conjectures of dreams and skins.
a poets habitual routine.
Slit my thigh, a green antena.
suck my thoughts, a spiritual dot.

a map depicts your mind, soft and beautiful, here.

Details emerge as a florescent green bush,
beneath my thumb of silver weeps.
Sip my thoughts. Decorate. Redraw my body.
Hold my toenail. Be careful.
Be careful, I might slip like a fallen star.

NaPoWriMo # 16

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this poetry is countless.

Secret Witch Aesthetic requested by @samwinchesterfanfic

 

your body.
it spreads under my own body.
duplex spiral grapevine.
/
Cherries under your foot,
A lament to recite,
day and night.
count and tell me the times I sank for you,
in you,
above you.
/
My voices tore away like a sunburn.
love blooms love with such endearment
A landscape of Oval sunset all in your palms.

this sky lives like poetry in your belly.
Where i come and sleep, to absorb the moisture of cold nights.
I bloom, like a lotus, near a windowsill to worship you,
darling,
i see you like vintage telephones in my surreal mind.
Rings of vacant loneliness has eaten me, desiccated me.
so i bury myself in your atmosphere of springs and springs.

Sequences are memories. An atom dissolves.
Orange/rusty/moist
And I dissolve in you.

Darling

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Thunders, in the mouth that we carry
A piquant starlight of your skin.
My darling, you live like . a town in my belly.
Each day, we grow in the circles of sestina.
A sweet nectar of snowflakes,
a silhouette of moist lip.

The retracing footsteps of delusions,
scratching the tip of tongue,
where we sit and drink memories.
and i absorb a glowing blurb,
parched, smudged yet a soft feverish glow

There is a sand dune in making,
we call it a coltish home,
Scribbles from books and hearts
a river, a windowsill peeking another sunset.

I want you telling me how you desire me.
Like the orchids from the backyard,
A spring growing beneath your breath.
colours of you,
colours of concave slippery night.
you have fingers, plastered, decorated
a chant if i must say that i wish to say.
its you darling and things about you,
that i wish to preserve and dig it into the mud.

I wish to preserve you, this ecosystem full of you.’
collecting deepest laments of our moments.

all that is you

you have a burning orange taste
like the room lit with forest.
dark and sequin patterns of lust.

my darling,
i look at you and i dissolve,
 a cape of Ganges.
From your cheeks,
i sip dews of dusk.

and i worship you like a dreamcatcher,
praying for your lucid footsteps,
A soft murmur inside a winter room.
cigarette lips and pink nails.

in your shadow of Auburn smoke,
lips wet like a half-baked moon.
let me trace your lavender skin,
a filament of my springs.

In the sky.

we look at the same clouds.
the same loose hanging blue tint of our elbow.
we sniff the same sky,
the paper balls of dreams.
ah, it reminds me of your whole body.
a map cascading through your hairline to your hip.

a sky resides there too.
The water. The rain.
The crinkling sheets of staircase.
the steps that go mad.
mad/ inflated/ swing.

i often want to hold your breath
between my palms, a souvenir of Cupid’s.
or maybe preserve and turn in into a vintage burp.
oh yes, i can swallow this sky.
i can swallow you.
for we both are liquid,
between the squirming gasps.

there is a corner of Life.
up in the grey, lava, fat sky.
we shall meet like dust, like a sound.
like a pool of soft indentation.
up there.
in the sky.
between the
calamitous whiff and your black eyes.


A slip

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i have written in my belly,
a thing for you,
your name that clamours this wall.
i have it preserved into my bones,
these skeletons of dark bowl.
ah! your voice, eccentric, atoms of atoms.
you blink, and i am basket of sunsets.

this life is a point of conversation.
with you, i skip this life.
a word that flutters still, like a pill.
you,
my darling create a tremor,
with spaces white as snowflakes.
i slip into you, a swirl of art.

a little love

i do not say i want your metaphors all the time. I need your bowl of reflections, white and pure. Thick fog running through my backbones, i am tired of feeling this red colour inside my body. Dilute it, maybe?Splash a mute word, spreading like a fungus, onto my body. You see, i don’t want wildflowers, today. I am insane, and i want your insane, dark, rough love. I have nothing else to hide beneath.i can slice unhappy moon, anthills stretching this cold evening.

can you rustle, beneath the cold sheets of chills? And enunciate the dimensions of love, rainbows for me in an oblivious way? Sequins of art-work. I know your ways are more like a cobweb. A fire extinguisher, is all i wish. something that cures the sore tickle of my back, my bosom and mouth.

i don’t want  berry nights from you, i want your white shirt, to cling. I have been doing that and i shall do it. I want it to hold on like a brush on a canvas, sliding a blurb of emotion. Like a bulge on my skin towards more of left. Crimson skies full of earth.

I want that little love, that little home.



P.S -for a change I have written a romantic piece, after a hiatus now. (to my love)