I want a poet
between my thighs,
wicked tongue wrapped
in verse,
drive and provoke,
serenade
this dancing knot
of prose hidden here,
a hungry mound
saturated beneath a soft
cocoon of sweltering flesh,
suspended in expectation
inspired to spill forth
steaming compositions
sticky on his epic lips,
grinning.

And he’ll rise then
breathing a new stanza
onto my fragrant neck
“Sandalwood,” he’ll whisper
as he fills me with a new
refrain
emphatically taunts
my music
to sing down onto
his tightened fuse,
running rivulets spiraling
along his determined thighs,
crying out into his
listening ear,
a requiem so potent it
drips off the page
and becomes some reality.

We all have seen
people,
places,
and different situations
that questions
everything we have learned,
believed,
seen,
and heard.
It is up to us whether to
label those things
as mere fallacies,
or to uphold them
as utter truths.
But this isn't always the case.
The process of acceptance
is not always easy.
It involves a lot of self-berating,
self-loathing,
listless moments,
melancholic states,
and finally,
reluctant adaption,
to the current norms,
notion,
and societal views,
that forces us to change
our views,
our versions of truths,
our perception of reality,
and our own self-image.
We must always beware
those situations; let it not
deter you.
For, dear, you are
what you are,
and what you believe;
your conviction,
your truths,
your freedom from
these mind-altering moments,
will not be taken away from you.
Do not let yourself
be washed away
by the waves of
fanaticism.

the perfect mistake
doesn't come into your life
as an ugly thing

oh darling, it's like
warm fire on a cold winter
heating up your skin

it's like finding this
oasis in the desert
quenching up your thirst

it even comes as
human presence on sadness
candle in the dark

the perfect mistake
never regrets hurting you
and will eat you whole

it's thought-consuming
like a passionate first kiss
creating daydreams

fulfilling wishes
like shooting stars in the sky
or is it your eyes?

comes as a surprise
the kind that leaves you breathless
filling the spaces

the perfect mistake
won't come with horns and tail but
as this boy you like

Our bodies sway to the music,
twirling,
sliding,
hopping,
on the slick wooden floor.

Our hands clasped together,
in this melody,
our feet draws intricate patterns,
as beautiful as the galaxies
in the expanse
of the cosmos,
on the slick wooden floor.

Our hearts beat faster,
and faster,
blood rushing in
our veins,
our breath mists
as we feel our energies
ebb away.

Our bodies exposed
to each other,
caressing,
holding,
each fingertips,
embedded on our
heated skin.

Our bodies touching,
our hips swaying
to the music
as we dance on the
slick wooden floor.

Our sweat drops,
our clothes crumpling,
as we dance along
on the slick wooden floor.

Our senses tingles,
becoming sensitive,
to each other;
each touch,
each whispers,
each exhalation,
everything within us,
are enjoined.

We move
in sync
with the tempo
of the music,
on the
slick wooden floor.

The exhilaration
of this dance,
will forever
be remembered.

We sat under a star-filled sky,
talking,
thinking,
gazing
at each other.

We sat under a cloudless sky,
holding hands as you lean on my shoulder,
wondering
where we are heading.

We stood under the pouring rain,
shouting,
denying,
hurting,
losing what we have,
what could have been,
and what should have been.

I sat under a starless sky,
blank,
reaching out
to the void,
hoping it would consume,
this unending pain;
hoping it would consume,
this utter dreamless life.