The Erotic Call
The sky wears the colour of the beautiful sea / the wind whirls with storm dangling on the nuke of gravity /As I kneel beneath the dusky tresses of the night clouds / unwinding the cluster of the Queen’s cantrips like a slave in a museum of memories after a war / astir the trills of some nameless voice: what sweetens romance if the moon with its iridescence refuses to dance on your blistering tongue with gleeful orchestra?/ So I blow some romantic lyrics through the silent night breeze on the palm of a peaceful star : “your presence- the clouds to strike a pose for a shoot / In the rooms of your mouth/ is the music to which I will forever dance / Many years I pined and raved like a slave in the dusky world of disguised love sucking an unusual dusky moonlight like a bairn imbibing his maiden freedom /Never did I come upon a love so true / O blindless hermit who craves to rainbow into a white dove at the peering of the moon to decorate my inner space/ please come / come in the right hour / and in the right way /Let your shadow fall on my cocoa brown skin /budding the most beautiful parts of me / After all can’t a boy survive in the trachea of beauty? / Appear you jug full of honey where I, a little ant has found grace” / So she cometh through the open sea/ through the salty tides /clothed in tartaryn smoke / in invisible fragrance / And sank in my fibre of breath whispering within my libido: unite and bind.
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