Over the extremes
When I fancy the dark , the darker
And the not so dark
The night crumbles like hot vanilla cookies straight out of the oven of
sensuous cravings
The night invites me
To embed my mouth in its arms
To hold my breath till I can no longer sustain
Smelling the musk drops in its pit
Laying still as it engorges me with its vibes
And we begin to resonate in the sorbet of crushed ice of feelings
That soothe and sting into a comforting null
I and it meld into the fading black
The loop is on
Rivets continue to pound the marks of relish with precision
The pain satisfies the union
It's face keeps changing with the myriad of a howling pack
Surge creates patterns in wilderness
Outs applaud
Some outs aspire to bask
Some refuse to be uprooted
Others run off
I stay put
Enjoying the layers of pseudo bubble popping
In broad daylight
- Prajakta Sathe
No comments:
Post a Comment