The night

There are different ways in which i sip my tea the one that dwells inside my chest speaking of you, your eyes are my favourite perfume, a rivetting hiccup that soothes my freckles. My tea speaks of you in ways indefinite. The body is incoherent, beating loudly to sit beneath your ailments, your feverish toe

A home

Midsummer’s mad song

How many times do I need to die to keep you awake? A figure of wax evolves and quietly speaks your name to me. Your tangerine lips, a lump of sugar and clove all dissolved in my ears. What is your language of love? You reach my body with chemicals gushing until the body shatters

Streak

There, beyond the ripples of mouth, lovers sits & communicate, through the sprint in their lashes, flutter of springs. a translucent shadow defies time. for that particular moment. small things begin to dilate. too much convulsions, temperature drop, wrinkled grass land. A grasshoper watches sky detonating. laughters circulating the wobbly afternoon. A visceral face expanding.

this poetry is countless.

  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

Darling

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

Porcelain dreams

i watch you sleeping in the coldness nights of eve-dropping with my vapid blue chipped nails, still gasping for breath, i watch you like a surrealistic, walking above the ocean to touch the mouths of lost and valleys of lights. I turn and twitch on the bed of mirrors, it has parts of your liquid

A slip

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

The Way I Do It.

My Phospherent body of raisin skin moans and swells like a process of Spirituality with fingers clinging your mouth, your scars, your lips, your teeth and your heart of surrealistic reverie. I become a thunderbolt, in the opulent windows of dreams and smiles wearing your white shirt, I swing. I swing like an autumn leaf,

and. i. grew.

my dress is an Ocean of your orange skin, the soft lullabies, tapping beneath the arms joining cities of lust, a blue tip of tongue knowing the pits of this coal lowlands, it started with your wet tongue, caressing my lips mouth like a band of tendons, tobacco burning in the palms. your scripted hands,