in fragile moments of time
there are these rumours of lust
between us, like dipping dusty shelves
with a naked smelling good book
suggestive that we validate each other
like a good story, or a whirled love-affair
there are sultry octaves sweating
between us, beneath the surface
a melody of aberrant kisses that
could swell the shady members
of our bodies like candles and the night
I’m not shy of your erotic tendencies
it’s all perfectly natural I’m sure
why my eyes veer towards your well-rounded
lotus shape, or how you flirt with me
without meaning to, on some level of appetite
of whims of girlish pride, it’s all
the wet whistles between us
the candy-marinated lullaby
and chocolate dreams for fools like us
who have nothing better to ponder
whose lives are glass figures of fragile
promises, swirling vows, eager amusements
youth still has her eyed locked on us I guess
a humid culmination to the loneliness
a rebellion to getting older, our bodies
make secret plans, primed to each other
like biology dipped with inner thirst
a revelation of the flesh and her
prolific ways, these physical polarities
the palpable prophecy of pleasure
that yearns like an unspoken cross-examination.
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