Sometimes, I believe you were conceived in the womb of *Aphrodite
the subtle migrations of your mouth and tongue
manipulating my body in ways
that would make a courtesan blush

let me worship at the altar between your thighs

Sometimes, I think you are a descendant of Moses
your fingertips guiding me into warm places
your thighs and valleys so divine
I can't help but get lost in them

your lips and hidden places always causing exodus

Sometimes, I imagine you as a rose
your petals opening gracefully for select eyes
beautiful, in your surrender
your thorns, a barrier to most, yet

I would brave them, just to drink the dew from between your buds

Sometimes, I just need to know that you're mine
nothing more & nothing less than what  **you are

His love for her made her
More like him.
Her love for him made him
Like her more.
His love for her made him
More like her.
Moreover, for them,
She made love more like him.
He made love, at her whim,
More like her than like him.

The lotus wades

     Shallow water

          Even and calm.

Her petals brighten

     In the beating sun's rays,

Glowing of tranquility.

          The onlooker grows jealous

     Venom green with envy

While the lotus rests,

          Mockingly green leaves.

Your sad eyes awaken a need within me to heal the heart which cries tears poorly hidden by the night rain.

Who left you out in the cold?
Whose harsh hands left those marks upon your skin?

Something in me wants to save you from your chosen fate;
Lean into my protective embrace and I promise you no hurt shall ever visit you again.
We both recognize that lie;
The saviour is nothing more than the precursor to the persecutor,
I would lay you upon a cross we built from your past misfortunes and misdeeds, and the understanding which thinly covers my hate.

Better I offer you nothing now but a friendly smile,
And leave you, alone, cold in the rain, waiting for the man who bruised your face,

I would batter your soul.

When you find yourself
wrapped in loneliness
or violently suspended
by a rogue desire,

uncloak yourself.
fight free.
you are always
in control.

From the woodlands of Madagascar
To the highlands of Ethiopia
Dwell nine species of lovebirds.
Their genus name is Agapornis,
From the Greek agape (love) and ornis (birds).
The French call them Les inséperables

While affection between compatible pairs
Can be a joy to behold,
Lovebirds can be quite territorial
And will defend their nest.

Sexually dimorphic they mate for life.
Like all parrots they need to be well
Socialized and taken care of.
They  are very vocal, making loud
High-pitched noises, especially
In the early morning time.

Stocky little birds
With short blunt tails
You can hold them
In the palms of your hands.
They love to snuggle,
They love to preen.
Happy birds: together.

The mere thought of the impossibility of achieving the impossible is so daunting that we leave out the possibility of trying out the possible means, by which we may try to achieve the impossible.- *Amitav