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 Jun 2015 mûre
Wallamo
My body has formed a spot for you
To curl around me, limbs entwined.
a perfect cocoon.

Every single bit of me fits in every part of you.
You fit in me quite nicely too.
...
I hate the required "time alone"
When it means I don't get to sleep next to you.

That's not to say I don't need it, though.
We're holding up signs that say "I MAKE ART"
But surrendering to our surroundings -
cutting our fingers in hot kitchens.

So let's take our time, my love.
We'll grow through creation
And for me, while I do it
I'll be day dreaming about our little life together
And our inevitable dog.
 Jun 2015 mûre
Wallamo
box boy
 Jun 2015 mûre
Wallamo
Insecurities are common in far away love.
I know you love me, so it's odd to consider otherwise.
I've been here before, unable to communicate
with the humans around me, drinking wine and being celibate.

I want so badly to see your face inside my tiny plastic infobox.
I want to hear your voice saying those true words
that make my heart fall out of my body, into my socks.
you tell me to let myself go far into you. I will.

You're pixely. But when there is a poor connection, ours doesn't break.
LIES, we say. we mean it so badly.
I'm drunk, and you're sleeping, and that's all there is to it.
My past has offered nothing to consider what's worth doing

(******* time zones)

You see, I've been here before, but not quite so quickly.
So my fists are up, clenched and concerned
Until I see your box boy face and I loosen and I soften
and you tell me that you love me. And I believe you, and I love you too.

Bare with me, while I overcome my own insecurities.
You give and give, how loyal your face.
Your naked body and your warm singing voice
will have me swooning for years, just let it settle in place.

I love you, I love, I love you a lot.  
You said "come to Montreal with me" and I lost all other thoughts.
Now I wonder and hope that this dream will come true.
I want creation and love and it's all because of you.

So when I feel insecure, it's only because you're not here
Your hands and your eyes are out east, but you're here
I wish you were here, and you say that you are.
Your heart is with mine, what a beautiful thought.
falling in love oh boy what a thrill
 Jun 2015 mûre
K Balachandran
The incessant march of time, is marked by the music of seasons,
wind blows, clouds race, rain in torrents fall, flowers bloom,
when I invariably return to see that perennial bloom on your lips,
time stands still, how we love this space beyond the reach of time!
"mrityor ma amrutham gamaya"(lead me from death to immortality)
--Bruhadaranyaka Upanishad
 May 2015 mûre
K Balachandran
In a clinic, getting treated for amnesia of the soul,
I meet her, by chance and feel a sense of deja vu,
but can't place her properly,from which age do you appear?
you sure are her. Your face is familiar, even after ages,
then you ask me whether I remember; in my brain
solar flair like magnetic energy, light up hidden spaces.
The red poppy design, isn't it a pointer enough?
"The poppy effect.My insignia won't allow to forget
though I too fall in to a forgetfulness described as divine"
In a moment, it happens, I tumble down parting
thick clouds of stardust memories,fleeting, yet haunting,
intoxicating scent of poppies, ***** haze  takes me over

youth was the country, we've been banished from long time back,
I destroyed my passport, in an angst, that can never be expressed,
I land on my legs, flying down,before her curious eyes and smile,
interplanetary voyagers, we hardly know what happens to us,
like a poem with images broken as seeds  and spawn.

I was the naked man on your bed, the day you came in
under the cover of darkness, made love heartily till the morn,
you mourned aloud, I didn't stop you, no taboo,threatened me,
and you said, would never forget the play of natural instincts.
in many places we met, in some strangers, others as lovers,
each night different, with our bodies regaling in ****** finger play,
we sat opposite, had dinners, joked about blind dates, being swapped,
promised to be in touch soon and properly date, though not compelled,
to find out more about ****** habits and ,decide where to meet.

At the time of a heist, notorious, we meet in a diamond showroom,
you thought I am the kind pin that pulls the string.A mole I suspected
you were, though confident in duping you one more sweet time.
In this world of make believe, you can take me as any avatar you think.
Converging in each other's eyes, we reconcile and forgive. for this life
You whisper, "Ï knew you were a nihilist"Ẃe were, that and more,
exploring the core,till the essence inexplicable, will be  clear.

Appreciating a glass of fine wine, we sit opposite,to each other.
we shake hands and I see you off, from an underground station,
to a galaxy, light years away,called Pinwheel, a cosmic  spiral,
then, I realize, we don't exist, you , me or whoever think they are,
when we insist, we exist, forget it brother,only eternity, nothing else.
 May 2015 mûre
K Balachandran
You are the erroneous mirror
also the distorted, reflected figure,
and the observer, the  root cause of all,
just, comically absurd,if you see straight.
But this plight, to you remains alien always.
as the logic works outside the bubble.
Cosmos is within an illusory bubble
Pure consciousness flows, beyond it.
 May 2015 mûre
Seán Mac Falls
Wet welling from earth
Deep valleys, hills, sweating *******
I plung into her


We are lost at sea
In moonless night our soft cries
Curled waves drowning us


Above her in bed
Little breaths lifting our bodies
Eyes, fingers, dreaming


Her green eyes are set
Jewels from sargasso seas
My ghost ship is wrecked


Her long hair tangles
No struggle in rising— then
We are rapt in bed


Her eyes blinding me
Milky way of her body
There is a heaven


In forest we taste
Each other in evergreens
Hot dews on the moss


Blissful time kissing
My bare thighs sink into hers
Running sands so quick


As olive or grape
So shed, paired souls are threshed
Out of their bodies


Hummingbirds share truths
Nature sounds with all sweetness
Bee in the flower


Always in a field
Wild flowers— a bunch to pick
Herself a bouquet


In the park we walk
Flocks of white birds taking flight
Two hearts light as air


We kissed under moon
Pox of stars grew flowering
Nightshade of her lips


She took me to bed
Skinned in bliss— was reborn, lost
In her satin folds
 Mar 2015 mûre
F White
miss what it wasn't,
[little dreamer]

forget how it happened,
[little liar]

focus on the Forward,
[little prophet]

but don't discount the After.
[little lover]
Copyright FHW, 2015
 Mar 2015 mûre
K Balachandran
She then wears her special smile
an inamorata's conspiratorial
signalling her arousal, need to get me closer
right there in a room full of people
all of us in the midst of serious business.
I have deep yearning in my eyes
that in turn sets fire to her love central
we burn to be in each other's arms
lovers in exile, commandeer private moments
deflecting watchful eyes of jealousy
every time our secret rituals of amour
take unexpected arms and win wars.
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