Your sweet breath it lingers on my earlobes,
Sauntering, blossoming its wild fragrance.
Your voice, it haunts my chilled bones,
When all that I’ve asked for has been granted.
How we lay there, pouring our souls bare
On the cotton crevices of our bedded bodies?
Sleeping on the sweet succour of our innocence
Playing tricks on senses, skin, touch and feel.
When we knew our eyes and ears,
Our nails, fingers and fears
Would all be erased in a timeless frenzy.
Our hearts now don’t beat at the same place,
Nor do our breaths match the temper of crashing waves.
Our eyes only see the sands slip away, from
Under our feet into the dreaded tidal sway.
-- Mohan
1 comment:
This one took me back to a time & situation that I try not to think about - but isn't that what poetry is suppose to do? take you somewhere whether real or imagined? It was good for me to go there so I could finally close that chapter...I thank you for showing me a way to do that...it's a very good piece. Can't wait to read more.
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